can't escape this now
by callistawolf
Summary: Oliver Queen, scion of a wealthy and powerful family, returns home from his exile to Russia to find that his mother has plans for his future that he wants no part of. Unfortunately, it's not really up to him and neither is it up to Felicity Smoak, who is about to find out what sort of man her father truly is. MOB AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I decided I should post this over here as well, in addition to Tumblr and Ao3. In the interest of fairness and all.**

 **This story was originally conceived and planned last summer and I got the idea from this post. Yep, that means I've been outlining, planning, writing it and ignoring it for a good nine months. I have quite a few chapters written and the lovely mersayseh has helped me with some beta work, assuring me that I've not totally gone off the deep end.**

 **I'm taking a risk here: this story isn't completed. I know how to complete it, but its not done just yet. But I'm hoping that posting it will urge me to just go ahead and FINISH IT already. That and Mer's constant threats. ;) So here it is, in all it's terrible, cheesy glory. YES, I know this is a thin premise and it's archaic and tropey and quite possibly entirely unbelievable. But just work with me here.**

A tall, handsome man in a tailored suit stepped into the Queen living room, looking every bit as though he belonged there. Moira Queen, the family matriarch, looked up from the small table set up next to the bank of windows and smiled, though no warmth met her eyes. She stood and extended a hand towards the man.

"Malcolm. So nice to see you again. I admit I was surprised when you told me you'd like to meet for coffee."

Malcolm Merlyn stepped up to her and shook her hand, his dark blue eyes glittering in the filtered light from the window. "I know you were and I apologize for the suddenness. Thank you for agreeing to see me."

Moira gestured for him to have a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the table and sat herself, smoothing her skirt with her palms. She looked to the doorway where Raisa, the family's longtime trusted maid and cook, stood waiting. The older Russian woman hurried forward, pushing a small serving cart loaded with coffee carafe, sugar and cream and various pastries. She left the cart next to the table and Moira nodded at her. "Thank you, Raisa. That will be all."

"So what is this about, Malcolm?" she asked as she lifted the carafe and poured coffee into her own cup before filling the cup in front of Malcolm as well. She watched as he added cream, no sugar.

"Can't I just want to get together with an old friend and chat?" he asked, sounding far too innocent. Moira knew better. If there was anything Malcolm wasn't, it was innocent.

"Forgive me for assuming you have an ulterior motive," she remarked dryly as she added cream and sugar to her drink, stirring with a small, silver spoon.

"I heard Oliver is returning to us."

She looked up sharply, her coffee cup poised just in front of her lips. But Malcolm just smiled blandly, no hint of agenda. Unsettled, she took a sip and then set the cup back down on the saucer. "Yes, he'll be home this evening."

"I'm sure you're very excited to see him. He's been gone for so long."

It was a pointed jab, Moira knew. She expected that Malcolm knew exactly why Oliver had had to leave the country. Most everyone in their society circle knew. Just because the Merlyn family hadn't been involved with the war between the Queens and the Bertinellis didn't mean Malcolm didn't know exactly what had gone down fourteen months ago. He knew exactly what her family had lost that terrible day when Moira's husband had been killed and her son had been forced into exile.

"Yes, it's been far too long," she agreed. "We're happy to have him back where he belongs."

Malcolm made a noise as he took another drink of his coffee. "I know Tommy is looking forward to seeing him again. And, to be perfectly honest, I'll be glad to have them back together, ripping up the town."

Moira arched an eyebrow. "Surely, you're joking. Or have you forgotten all the trouble those two used to get into together?"

He chuckled. "I haven't forgotten. But those sorts of troubles I could handle. Dealing with publicists is one thing but…"

"What's going on, Malcolm? Tommy is doing okay, isn't he?" She hadn't heard of anything, that is, but that didn't always mean anything. In the lifestyle their families led, things sometimes happened without anyone else knowing about them.

"He's dating," Malcolm ground out, his jaw tight.

Moira chuckled. "Well, that's not so bad."

"A cop's daughter. My fool of a son is dating a cop's daughter. Can you believe it?"

"Oh, Malcolm." Moira's heart genuinely went out to the man, despite the troubles their families had had in the past. She knew the sort of headache that situation presented, having dealt with the issue herself when Oliver briefly dated Laurel Lance when they were in high school. Laurel was the daughter of one of Starling City's most prominent detectives. Moira had made her displeasure clear and had urged Oliver to end things with her. She needn't have bothered; Oliver always tended to do his own thing and was stubborn as an ox. He was also as unfaithful as a wild horse sowing his oats. Laurel caught him cheating just weeks after they'd begun their relationship and that had been that.

"I know you've dealt with this before," Malcolm said, echoing her thoughts and fixing her with a level look. "Laurel Lance?"

"Yes, that was her name. Oliver chased her away, thank goodness, before any trouble could brew."

"If only I were so lucky. Tommy has fallen in love with her and they've been dating for six months now. I blame my concentration on the deal with the Triad, otherwise I would have noticed sooner."

"Wait, are you saying that Tommy is dating Laurel Lance?" Hell, that was a problem.

"I am indeed saying that. He wants to move in with her."

"Good lord, Malcolm. And you've tried talking to him?"

"Of course I've tried! He insists they're in love. I'm hoping that Oliver being back in town will encourage Tommy to… stray."

Ah. It all made sense now. "You're hoping my son's philandering ways will rub off on yours?"

"More or less."

This wouldn't do at all. Moira had very different plans for her son. Plans that involved him becoming the leader of the Queen family, as her husband had wished. The fourteen months in Russia had been necessary to avoid prosecution for the murder Oliver had committed, but now that his exile was over, he had responsibilities. And those responsibilities did not include peeing on cop cars with Tommy Merlyn. Which is exactly what she told Malcolm.

The other man was unfazed by her declaration. "If you recall, Tommy wasn't the one doing the peeing. He was the one video-taping the whole thing."

Moira waved an impatient hand. "They were both high as kites and they both were charged by the police. The point is, Malcolm, Oliver will not be participating in such antics any longer. He is the head of this family now. He needs to start acting like it."

Malcolm snorted derisively. "Next thing you'll be telling me is he's going to get married." He chuckled before finishing off his coffee and setting the cup down with a thunk.

Married. The word flashed through her mind and her first instinct was to deny it as foolishness. Oliver, married? No doubt he'd grown up quite a bit in the last fourteen months but she highly doubted her son was the sort to be pinned down to marriage. At least not for several years yet.

However… if she were to find just the right sort of girl… It would have to be someone innocent, respectable and easily groomed. Moira pictured a sweet, timid girl that she could easily steer and direct and influence. She would make her the perfect society wife; the sort of woman who turned a blind eye to her husband's infidelities, who looked good on his arm and said yes to everything the family required of her… It was the perfect plan. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. During the months after Oliver had left the country, nameless woman after nameless woman had come to the door, claiming to be pregnant with the Queen family scion. All lies, of course, but the gold diggers had sensed a vulnerability, blood in the water, and were quick to exploit it. Marrying Oliver off would afford the family certain protections from situations like that. If he was married (to a woman of her own choosing of course), at least she wouldn't have to worry about some money-hungry vixen luring her son into marriage.

The best part was that Moira already knew just the girl. There was a man who owed a great debt to the Queen family. He was a drug addict and a gambler and had lost a veritable fortune in the Queen family casinos located up the river. There was no way this man could ever repay them the debt he owed so she'd been trying to come up with a way to deal with the situation, aside from having him fitted with cement boots and tossed off the docks.

It just so happened Jerry Smoak had a lovely young daughter. Moira had seen her once, at the Queen Consolidated offices downtown, actually. The girl worked in the IT department, didn't seem to have much social life and though Moira had only spoken to her once, she'd had the impression of an awkward and shy young woman.

Perfect.

Moira beamed at Malcolm and told him she was sorry for his troubles but that he'd have to try to find a way to rid his son of Laurel Lance other than using her son. As of tonight, Oliver Queen was going to find himself off the market.

Oliver Queen stepped out of the jetway and into the Starling City International Airport. The last time he'd been in this airport had been fourteen months earlier when he was nearly sick with grief over the death of his father and the blood of his killing on his soul. The blood was still on his soul, but at least the heat had died down back home. Legally speaking. The last time he'd spoken to his mother before arranging to return home, she'd assured him that not only were the police no longer searching for him in connection with the murder of Frank Bertinelli, but that the Queen family had made peace with the Bertinelli family and no retribution would be sought.

Shouldering his knapsack, Oliver headed to the baggage claim. He only had a duffle with him in addition to the knapsack and that was all he'd owned in the world while he was in Russia, living in a safe house. The last time he'd been in Starling City he'd been scared and naive. It felt as thought it'd been longer than fourteen months since he'd been in his hometown. He felt like he'd aged five years. No longer was he the naive, self-absorbed and feckless playboy he'd been before the war with the Bertinellis. He'd done a lot of growing up, not just in the long five days of that terrible war, but in the long months in Russia.

It was lucky that Raisa, the woman who'd virtually raised him, had family back in Russia, just outside of Moscow, who were willing to take him in. Oliver had done his best to earn his keep on the small farm and spent all this spare time training, reading, training some more and learning whatever he could about anything at all. Back home, he'd failed out of five universities in his youth and after that, he'd spent his days sleeping off his hangover from the night before. What a waste. For years, his father had hoped for him to take a position at Queen Consolidated and begin to learn the family business. Both the legitimate front and the… not-so-legitimate backend. Oliver had continually put him off, believing he had years left for all of that boring stuff.

How wrong he had been.

At the age of twenty eight, Oliver had finally gotten involved in the dirtier side of the family business when the war with the Bertinellis had escalated to the terrible point where Frank, head of the Bertinellis, had shot down Robert Queen right on the street in front of the Queen Consolidated building. Oliver had arrived just in time to hold his father in his arms as he bled out and died. The strike on Frank Bertinelli had been calculated and swift and Oliver had taken a perverse enjoyment out of shooting that man and watching the life fade from his eyes.

Fourteen months in Russia had been a small price to pay for that vengeance.

Oliver was now ready to take the responsibility he'd avoided before. The thought of returning to his former lifestyle held no appeal to him anymore. What had been so thrilling before now seemed pointless and dull. The women had been nice, of course, but the drinking and drugs and endless partying had long lost their luster. Considering what had instigated the war in the first place, as nice as women were, he felt he was better off without one in his life.

His duffle bag came off the baggage carousel and he grabbed it up before heading out the sliding glass doors. Parked right out front, as expected, was the long, sleek limousine his mother had sent to pick him up. The chauffeur, a new guy from the looks of it, took his bags and put them in the trunk while Oliver slid into the backseat.

Already seated across from him was his mother. "Mom! I wasn't expecting you to come to the airport," he said.

Moira Queen smiled. "It's good to see you too, Oliver. How was the trip?"

"Way too many hours in a tin can flying over the half the world," he admitted. "It's good to see you, mom. How's Thea?" His sister, now twenty years old, had sent him letters fairly regularly the first few months he'd been gone but news from her had tapered off. He missed her, in spite of himself. She'd been a pest to him when she was younger but, as with just about everything else in his life, Oliver hadn't fully appreciated her until he'd lost just about everything.

"She's fine. Busy with this and that. We have her managing the nightclub, actually. She's done really great things with it."

"Verdant?" Oliver asked incredulously. He still thought of the club as "his" even though that was an entirely laughable concept. Verdant had been his father's last-ditch effort to pull Oliver towards doing something professional. He'd had the club built in one of the family's old abandoned steel factories and had put Oliver in charge. "In charge" was a broad concept in this case, however. He'd parade through the club, picking up women and drinking and leave the actual running of the club to various staff his father had hired. Essentially, Robert Queen's plan had backfired and Oliver hadn't honestly given much thought to the club during his exile. He was surprised to hear his baby sister was running it now. "Isn't she too young?"

Moira waved a manicured hand. "Too young to serve, not too young to sell. We have the proper city officials on a payroll, I remind you. Besides, her birthday is in a few months and then it'll be moot. Thea enjoys the work and like I said, she's done a great job."

"I'm glad for her," Oliver admitted. In all truth, he wouldn't have had time for Verdant now anyhow, now that he was taking over his father's position. Queen Consolidated alone was going to monopolize a lot of his time and attention. "Any other news I need to know about?"

Moira rearranged herself on the leather seat and Oliver glanced at her appearance. He'd never known his mother to look anything but cool, calm and collected. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly, her makeup flawless, her suit pressed and perfectly complimenting her skin tone… he expected no less. Oliver wondered why she insisted on him running the family when he knew for a fact that she was more than capable of handling the job herself.

"Tommy is dating Laurel Lance. Apparently, it's quite serious."

"Seriously?" That surprised Oliver. He'd dated Laurel for about a month ten years ago. Tommy hadn't ever seemed to give her a second thought, even at the time. Now they were dating? He made a mental note to reconnect with his best friend as soon as possible and find out what was going on in his life.

"Indeed. It has Malcolm very worried, for obvious reasons. He wants you to lure Tommy back to a life of debauchery so his family can be rid of her."

That didn't surprise Oliver. If anyone was more heartless than his mother about matters such as these, it was Malcolm Merlyn. "You told him I wasn't into all that anymore, right?"

"I did. But the conversation gave me an idea. We need to establish you as different from the boy you used to be. We need to cultivate a responsible, capable image for you now."

"I know that." The hairs on the back of his neck raised. "What do you have in mind?"

"I think you need to get married."

If she'd told him he needed to jump off the State Street Bridge, he couldn't have been more surprised. Oliver gaped at his mother. "Married? You can't be serious."

"I am completely serious. A nice, docile wife will be just the thing to project the image we need."

"No. Absolutely not. Mom, I—" He broke off, not sure how to tell her all the thoughts and guilt that had plagued him for the last fourteen months. "I'm not cut out for that sort of relationship."

"I know you have issues with fidelity, Oliver. That's why I am suggesting a docile, understanding wife."

He clenched his jaw. "That's not what I mean. I'm not cut out for a relationship, especially not something as permanent as that. Jesus, I think everything that happened before I had to leave town confirmed that, don't you?"

"Oliver," his mother began, sitting forward so she could place her hand over his where it rested on his knee. "This would have nothing to do with that. I've already picked out the perfect girl and we'd be sure to avoid any issues you've had before, including what happened fourteen months ago."

"You're not getting me, mom. I'm not cut out for marriage. I would ruin her life."

"Nonsense! You're an excellent catch, one of Starling City's most eligible bachelors! She would have prestige as your wife, access to money, clothes, security and anything she could probably ever want…"

"You're describing a gold digger, mom. I thought you were all about warning me away from them."

"Aren't you listening to me? I've already found the perfect woman. I've spoken to her father just this evening and he's very motivated to set up a meeting between you and his daughter. This girl is no gold digger, I assure you. Even better, she's certain to have no agenda of her own."

Oliver drew his hand out from under his mother's and used his fingers to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache and he hadn't even been home a half an hour yet. "I can't do this. You can't ask me to do this. I'm not ready for this."

"You might think you're not ready now but—"

"I will never be ready. Marriage isn't for me, mom."

"Oliver." Moira sat up straight in her seat and fixed him with a level gaze. Oliver recognized the look; this was her Steel Queen persona, the one she was known throughout the city for. "I'm not asking you. You are back home to take your father's place. That position comes with responsibilities and this is just one of those responsibilities. What you want is now secondary and I'm sorry for that but this is what being a Queen means. You know that. You were raised knowing this."

Shit. She had him there. As soon as he'd been old enough to understand, he'd known the truth of what being a Queen meant. His parents' marriage had been a business arrangement and he was expected to follow that same path. So was Thea. He'd never cared when he was younger, thinking that fate was years away. Oliver breathed deep and turned his head to look out the window, at the cityscape passing by as the limo whisked them away to the Queen compound located on the outskirts of town.

"Fine. Set up the meeting. I can at least meet her."

"That's the spirit."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to EVERYONE for the outpouring of support for this chapter! I'm so glad you're all excited for it. I'm currently in the middle of chapter 10 and everyone's enthusiasm is very motivating for me. For a long time, I wasn't sure I was going to post this. When I first started planning and writing it, back in September, there weren't a lot of mob-related AU fics out there. Of course, that changed very quickly (most of them focusing on Bratva, but still mob-related) and I started to worry that I might step on toes by posting my own. This is *not* Bratva, more just a generic mob family type setting. I was inspired, first and foremost, by The Godfather (as evidenced by Oliver's exile after committing murder) with a little dash of Beauty and the Beast thrown in. :) It's a strange combination, to be sure.**

 **This is what you were all looking forward to after last chapter: Felicity meets Oliver! Though, if you want my personal opinion, their interaction in chapter 3 is what really gets this party started! I should have that for you on Tuesday!**

 **Once again, thanks to mersayseh for looking over these chapters for me. She's been the biggest cheerleader for this story!**

"This is unbelievable," Felicity Smoak muttered, clutching her handbag and glaring out the windshield as her father steered them past sprawling estates. "I can't believe you would put me in this position." Or that she'd _let him_ put her in this position. The last place she wanted to be right now was in her dad's car on the way to the Queen mansion to meet with the grand matriarch and her erstwhile, philandering son. Especially since that meeting was supposed to end with their _engagement_.

It was like something out of a nightmare.

Felicity had always known her father was flawed. Jerry Smoak was a child in a man's body and had the impulses to match. She couldn't think of a single time in her twenty-five years of life that he had made a prudent, conscientious decision that would benefit his whole family as well as himself. No, everything was about instant gratification with him. When Felicity was a child, his behavior had been annoying and often hurtful, especially the times she'd been forgotten or swept under the rug as a result. As she'd grown older, she'd learned to roll her eyes and ignore it as best she could. Felicity instead focused on her own life and her own path. She'd worked hard, _damn hard_ , in school and had gotten a full ride scholarship to MIT as a result. Her dream was to someday have enough capital to start her own tech company. She was bursting with ideas that she wanted to put into practice.

That sort of research took a significant investment, however, and her family was anything but wealthy. So as soon as she'd graduated, she'd moved back to Starling City and began working in the IT department at Queen Consolidated. It was fairly menial work to begin with, but she lived frugally and worked hard and saved every penny she could. In her spare time, she'd work up proposals to send to potential investors to see if she couldn't get the ball rolling a little sooner, if possible.

If there was one thing Felicity was, it was driven. She was determined not to end up like either of her parents.

Donna Smoak was a dreamer. Felicity honestly believed that her mother still believed that her father could someday amount to something. In the meantime, she herself worked long hours at one of the Queen's underground casinos as a cocktail waitress in order to bring home money and support herself and her husband. She was a gorgeous woman, looking far younger than her years and while she didn't have much in common with her mother, Felicity still loved her. Every now and then they'd meet for coffee or get their nails done together and she'd let her mom prattle on about this and that. As she'd grown up, Felicity had realized her mom was somewhat naive about certain truths, especially as pertained to her husband, and Felicity took it upon herself to protect her mother from the inevitable fallout as much as she could.

Jerry Smoak was a paunchy, balding, mess of a man. Felicity had seen pictures of him when he was younger and knew he'd once been quite handsome, but anything remotely attractive about him had long since been burned away by drugs, alcohol and hard living. He was a compulsive gambler, strangled by his various addictions and the weakest man she knew. Still, he was her father. So when he'd come to her the day before, sobbing at her townhouse door, begging her to let him, to help him, Felicity had listened to what he'd had to say. She should have shut the door in his face and pretended she wasn't home. As soon as that thought flashed through her mind, Felicity dismissed it with horror. No, she was glad she could help her father even if she didn't like the terms. At all.

It turns out, her dad had made one bad bet too many. He was in deep, deep debt to the Queen family. And being in debt to the Queen family wasn't a position that anyone ever wanted to be in.

Starling was a city run by mob families and the Queens were at the top of the pile. _No one_ wanted to piss them off. And as long as no one did, everyone got along pretty well. While Felicity didn't exactly approve of their moral code, all these mob families did seem to keep Starling City relatively safe for the regular folk. No, most of the violence and bloodshed was between the families but the innocent citizens were kept safe. That is, unless they crossed a mob family. Which no one was actually stupid enough to do.

 _Except my father_ , Felicity thought.

Jerry had gotten himself in a deeper hole than he could ever hope to get himself out of and, it turns out, the Queens didn't want money in return. For whatever insane reason, they wanted _Felicity_. She'd been stunned when her father told her this and had immediately laughed it off. It had to be a joke. There was no way she was giving herself over to the mob. The idea was simply ludicrous. Then, of course, Jerry had lowered the boom: if she agree to marry Oliver Queen, the Queen family scion, then they would have him murdered. And possibly have Felicity and her mother murdered too. She didn't remember that part too clearly as she'd begun to hear a roaring in her ears and had to sit down with her head between her knees to regain her senses.

Naturally, Felicity had suggested they go to the police with this. Surely, this sort of bargaining with human lives was against the law. Who in their right mind in this day and age passed a person around like some piece of property? To say nothing of threatening violence if this archaic arrangement wasn't fulfilled. After Felicity had run out of steam, ranting about all of this, Jerry had pointed out all the city officials that the Queen family had on their payroll. Plus, apparently, Jerry was being watched to make sure he didn't do something stupid. So that was great.

Now, Felicity was on her way to meet these people and it looked like they'd be discussing her upcoming nuptials. Instead of planning out how, where and when to purchase office space to set up a lab and how to acquire funding to purchase the necessary technology, she was going to be looking down the barrel of life as a mafia wife. All her hopes and dreams and aspirations were circling the drain, soon to be sucked down the pipes for good.

"You're sure there's no other way?" she asked her father. He'd offered to drive her to the Queen mansion and while Felicity liked to think it was because he wanted to offer her moral support, she rather suspected it was so he could ensure she showed up. Not for the first time, Felicity asked herself why she cared. She doubted her father cared about her half as much as she tried to care about him.

"There isn't, Lis," he replied, using the nickname that she had never liked, not even when she was a kid. He knew this, she always told him she hated it, but he used it anyhow. "You'll be saving my life. Your mother's life!"

"Speaking of which, what am I going to tell her? You don't think she'll be the slightest bit concerned at how quickly I'm marrying someone I've just met?" Her father had already asked she keep this whole debacle from her mother, claiming that Donna didn't need this extra stress on top of the long hours she worked.

"Are you kidding? She'll be so happy you're marrying a billionaire that she won't question it," her dad pointed out. Sighing, Felicity had to admit he was probably right. It was nothing against her mother, but she knew Donna wanted badly for Felicity to find a good guy, preferably one with money. Oh well, one out of two wasn't too bad.

She wanted nothing more than to fling the car door open and jump out of the moving vehicle. She would tuck into a ball, roll to a stop on the pavement and then disappear into the woods and live out her life elsewhere, without this ridiculous drama. Of course, realistically, Felicity knew she could never do that. She could never live with the guilt of knowing she'd done something that resulted in the death of one or more members of her family. She'd probably be hunted then too, and the Queen family had the resources to track her down, no matter where she went. She was well and truly _stuck_.

As the trees whizzed past the car window, Felicity thought about what she knew of Oliver Queen. Having grown up in Starling City, she'd also grown up hearing about everything that Oliver Queen ever did. For a few years there, when she'd been finishing up high school, he'd been the headline on every celebrity gossip blog every single day. Tales of drunken debauchery, arrests and altercations, and a lifestyle that she not only had no concept about but she didn't care to be associated with. Even after she'd gotten her scholarship to MIT and traveled across the country to go to school, stories of Oliver Queen and his friends still reached her. The impression she had of him was clear; this was a spoiled, selfish and destructive young man. It didn't matter how attractive he was, and damn him he had to be the sort that got more attractive the older he got, he was the last sort of man on earth she'd ever want to be with.

And now she had to _marry him_.

A moment later, Jerry's old beat up Chevelle pulled through the guarded gates of the Queen mansion. They were directed to proceed down the driveway, they were expected at the main house. Felicity's nerves got the better of her and she could swear she felt her heart pounding in her throat. She smoothed her hands on the skirt of her trim, tailored suit, hoping she looked sharp enough. It was her nicest suit, a lovely bright blue that enhanced her eyes and showed off her blonde hair. Her palms were lightly sweaty but there wasn't much she could do about it now. She gaped at the stone monstrosity that rose up before them. It looked like a castle! Her nerves jumped up another notch.

Jerry stopped the car just under a stone portico that lead to the grand front doors. Armed men stood on either side of the doors, eyeing them malevolently. Felicity swallowed heavily and got out of the car, pushing hard to close the rusty door behind her causing it to creak and bang as it shut. She came around the car and realized her father wasn't getting out of the driver's seat. In fact, the engine was still running.

"You're not staying?" she exclaimed.

He leaned out the rolled down window. "Can't, baby doll. I've got a meeting to get to with some very important people." Felicity fought a groan. She knew what that meant. Another gambling deal. She was sure he thought it was a "sure thing" this time too.

"You can't leave me here by myself! I don't even know these people!" she hissed at him.

"You know 'em as well as I do! You'll be fine. You look great, Lis, you shine up like a new penny. They'll love you."

With a wave, he drove off, returning down the driveway and leaving her standing there, gaping after him. Felicity would like to think that she'd never thought him capable of doing something like to this her. But the evidence was obviously stacked against that. Clearly, he would and he did. Swallowing hard, she gripped her handbag even tighter and turned to face the men guarding the door. Time to face the music.

Oliver paced the living room, his fists clenching at his sides. He looked up at his mother and sister in turn, trying not to glare too hard but as the time drew nearer for this meeting with this unknown woman, the more and more he thought what a bad idea this all was. Who was this girl? How did she get involved in this? There was something his mother wasn't telling him.

Moira sat on the sofa, casually examining her manicure, looking as though she hadn't a care in the world. Thea sat next to her, looking through a fashion magazine. The only other people in the room were Jean Loring, the family's lawyer and her assistant, a young man he'd not caught the name of. They stood at the other side of the room, their heads bent together, discussing something in hushed tones.

The butler arrived at the doors and cleared his throat. Oliver looked to him expectantly and Moira looked up as well. "Mrs. Queen, Mr. Queen, Miss Queen, there is a Felicity Smoak here to see you."

"Thank you, James. Please show her in." Moira got to her feet and gestured for Thea to stand as well. With a small eye roll, his sister laid her magazine aside and got to her feet.

A moment later, the butler reappeared with a young woman at his side. She was small and blonde, her long hair waving over her shoulders. She wore a prim pair of glasses and had a small, demure (and clearly nervous) smile. The blue suit she wore looked excellent on her, the matching heels elongating her legs and showing off shapely calves. She was definitely pretty, but Oliver wouldn't have called her head-turning. In the past, he'd always surrounded himself with tall, leggy model types. Felicity had a prim, sweet demeanor that he'd always made a point to avoid in the past. It was those kinds of girls, not the flashy, obvious ones, that were the real trouble. Once again, Oliver felt this was the worst possible idea his mother could have ever had.

"Ms. Smoak," Moira said, stepping forward and clasping the other woman's hands in hers. "So lovely to see you, I'm glad you could come. Is Gerald not joining us?"

Felicity's answering smile was small and a little aggravated. "He dropped me off, he couldn't stay." Then, she seemed to remember herself. "It's good to see you too, Mrs. Queen. Thank you for having me."

Oliver could feel the palpable tension in the air. The young woman clearly felt uncomfortable and Thea was busy sizing her up and he doubted he was helping with the way he was watching her. He couldn't seem to help himself, however. While she wasn't as striking as the women he generally spent time with, but there was something about her…

"Please, call me Moira. This is my daughter, Thea," his mother introduced, nudging his sister forward. Felicity shook Thea's hand and they both smiled at each other. This time, he saw her smile reach her eyes and found the sight slightly beguiling.

"Nice to meet you, Felicity. I hope get to know each other better," Thea said.

"Same. Thank you, Thea."

"And this is my son, Oliver." His mother beckoned him forward and he finally moved from his post over by the windows. Oliver approached, pulling his hands from his pockets. Felicity turned to him and her eyes coasted over him. He couldn't read her expression and found that bothered him more than a little. He wanted to know what she thought of him.

"Mr. Queen," she greeted, her voice calm as she shook his offered hand.

"Call me Oliver."

Her hand was small in his, soft and warm. She had a firm handshake and she met his eye. He'd expected her to be more shy and unsure of herself, considering the description his mother had given him. Quiet, he could see, but unsure? Never.

"Well. Let's get to the point, shall we?" his mother suggested. Moira indicated for Felicity to sit on the other sofa and for Oliver to sit next to her. He made sure there was plenty of space between them as he sat. She angled her crossed legs away from him and he couldn't help but feel the snub.

"What has your father told you, my dear?"

Felicity cleared her throat and laced her fingers together, setting them on her knee. "He explained that he was indebted to your family and that in lieu of money, you wanted me to… err…" She trailed off and glanced at Oliver.

"Marry Oliver. Yes, more or less. Your father has a significant debt to us. Normally, we don't make exchanges and the terms are very specific. We know your father could never hope to afford to repay what he owes us. I feel we are being very generous in our offer to receive your cooperation instead."

Felicity's cheeks colored. "Yes, and I know my father appreciates that."

"And you, Felicity? How do you feel about it."

She glanced at him again and Oliver tried to hide his interest in what she was going to say. "I— I don't know what to think, Mrs. Queen."

"Moira, please."

"Moira. I'm very sorry, it's just that I have a life and I have plans. I feel as though I'm being rather subverted in all of this."

Oliver watched as his mother shifted, looking down at her hands before looking back up at Felicity and meeting her eye. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you how serious this situation is with your father. This is the last option we're willing to entertain. I'm sure you don't want anything to happen to your family, do you dear?"

The color had drained out of Felicity's face. She shook her head and looked vaguely ill. This whole situation was starting to chafe at him. He'd been expecting a women who was at least willing but Felicity seemed like she'd rather do anything besides marry him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"No, I don't. And I do understand. But… are you sure you want me? I mean, Oliver could probably have any girl he wanted…"

Oliver cleared his throat. "I've been away from town for over a year, if you weren't aware," he told her. "I'm not seeing anyone currently and I'm not interested in starting any relationships."

She looked at him skeptically and he knew she was thinking of all the gossip blogs and reports of his numerous conquests. Irritation bristled within him. She was making a judgement on him without even knowing him yet.

"So… this is more of a business transaction than anything else?" she asked, looking between him and his mother. She, in turn, looked to him. He knew this was his call.

"Yes," he replied. "You will be expected to accompany me to public events and society will recognize you as my wife. But in private, we don't ever have to speak if you don't wish it."

"Oh." Was she disappointed or was that relief? Dammit, he couldn't tell. "Separate bedrooms?"

Oliver nodded. "You will be in the room next to mine with an adjoining door but that door can remain closed if you prefer."

"I see." Felicity appeared to think this over and Oliver met his mother's eyes. She nodded slightly, telling him that she thought they would be going forward and he expelled a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding.

"You will have access to whatever you need here, of course," his mother interjected, sweetening the pot. "There will be a weekly allowance, typical of a Queen spouse, a bodyguard, wardrobe, all of that."

Felicity looked startled. "Oh! I didn't— I mean, I hadn't…" Her gestured uselessly in her lap and, again, the tension rolled off of her. Oliver found her reaction very strange. Weren't most young women relieved by financial stability and things like that? All the girls he'd ever dated had been very interested in whatever his fortune and influence could bring them. If any of them had been offered a new wardrobe, a fancy address and the money that his mother had just mentioned, they would have been jumping up and down. Felicity, however, looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"I know I don't have much choice here," she finally said, her voice quiet. "I'm not saying that you haven't been… accommodating. You're very generous and I realize that. But, I do want you to know, I'm doing this for my family. No other reason."

His mother nodded and smiled. "So you are in agreement?"

Felicity nodded. "When is the…" She made a strangled noise and then seemed to catch herself. "When?"

She leaned forward and Thea finally appeared interested, sitting forward as well. "Soon. There's no reason to put this off. We can have the arrangements in place for next week. Your family is, of course, welcome to and encouraged to attend. Please think of whomever you'd like to invite."

"We're not going to just do a civil ceremony at the courthouse or something?"

"No, dear. You'll learn soon enough, being a Queen comes with certain expectations. And people will expect Oliver to be married in a fairly lavish ceremony with a well-attended party afterward. It's the custom, among the families. We'll tone it down from what we normally would do, given the time constraints and such, but there will be a formal ceremony, here on the estate."

Felicity appeared to digest that information. Her color was still pale and Oliver looked to Thea and jerked his head in Felicity's direction. His sister caught the clue and she got up from the sofa, crossing to Felicity and kneeling before her. She took the other woman's hands in her own and smiled encouragingly at her.

"It's quick but this will be fun! I was born for this, Felicity. Here, come with me and we'll look up wedding dresses online."

Felicity nodded jerkily and allowed Thea to pull her to her feet. She wobbled for a minute but quickly steadied. They left the room a moment later and Oliver felt like he was finally able to breath freely. He collapsed back against the sofa and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered.

"Don't be so dramatic," his mother chastised. "She's a pretty girl. A little on the demure side, but that change might be good for you."

Oliver dropped his hand and glared at her. "I think I'm starting to sympathize with her, having her life and choices ripped from her."

"Oh please. This will hardly impact you at all. At most it means we'll have significantly fewer gold diggers sniffing around, hoping to entrap you. I highly doubt this will affect your love life."

He fought a cringe. He knew what everyone thought of him based off of his old reputation but to hear his own mother speak it was especially humbling. "I don't plan to hit the town, sniffing for chicks, mother."

"Clearly. Your days of being that obvious about it are over and that has nothing to do with marrying Ms. Smoak. You're the head of the family now and you have responsibilities and an image to maintain. But you are also a powerful man and you can have a different woman brought to your room every night if you so desire. Or, if you have a specific woman in mind, we can arrange a discreet affair."

His stomach began to turn. Once upon a time, what his mother was describing would have been a dream come true but now? "Not interested," he growled.

"Oh, do lighten up, Oliver. You have a wedding to help plan. Don't look so aghast, honestly. We'll handle most of the heavy lifting on this. I have a coordinator I plan to use and she'll see to the majority of the details. But you do need to be on hand, if just for images sake. There'll need to be a press release and there's still the matter of the proposal."

"Proposal?" Why the hell hadn't he considered that until this very minute? "What's the point of that if she's already agreed?"

She gave him a dry look. "A little romance goes a long way towards making a girl like her feel at ease, Oliver."

"What the hell am I supposed to propose with?"

"Relax. I had a ring sent up from the family vault this morning." His mother reached across to the table next to the sofa where she sat. She plucked up a small, blue velvet box. Oliver got to his feet and crossed to it to take it from her hand. "Open it up. It belonged to my mother and she got it from her mother."

Oliver snapped back the lid and while he knew very little about jewelry and gemstones, even he had to admit it was a striking piece. A large, round diamond was snug in a platinum setting with lots of intricate scrolling worked into the band, smaller diamonds set here and there. He could tell two things looking at it: it was old and it was expensive. This was the sort of ring a man gave to a woman that he absolutely _adored_.

"It's a 2.5 carat diamond, with smaller .5 carat diamonds in the setting. Pure platinum, Edwardian era. She will love it."

"Does it matter if she does?" Bitterness settled over him. This was the sort of ring a man should be thrilled to bestow on his intended. He deserved better than this and so did she.

"I suppose not. Why don't you go find your bride and give this to her. See if you can steal her away from Thea for five minutes. The two of you should have a moment alone before the ceremony, after all."

Oliver tried his level best not to glare at his mother as he stalked out of the room to hunt down a staff member that could tell him where his sister and Ms. Smoak had gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: HUGE thank you to everyone again who is supporting this story. Your comments, likes, tweets, kudos, reblogs... they all mean the world to me.**

 **I'm current cranking away on chapter 12 so things are going well on my end. I'm very excited to have you read some of the things that are coming up.**

 **Again, huge thanks to mersayseh for all her support and beta-reading. :)**

Felicity tried her best to keep up as Thea Queen bombarded her with wedding dress designs. The younger woman had brought her to a private study that, despite its medieval decor, housed a very modern and updated computer set up. They sat behind the carved wooden desk together and Thea had a wedding fashion website open on the forty inch monitor. If she'd been feeling less dazed and overwhelmed, she would have been impressed by the fancy technology. There wasn't a single thing about this computer setup that was outdated.

And right now, the images filing that beautiful monitor were of wedding dresses. Dresses far fancier than anything Felicity would have ever expected to wear and she wasn't sure how to tell Thea that none of what she'd shown her so far was quite her taste. Then she wondered if her taste even mattered. Did anything she want matter?

"Look at the sleeves on this one! Oh, Felicity, this cut would look fantastic on your figure!" Thea gushed.

Felicity squinted at the screen. What she saw was a dress with more lace, more beading and folds of fabric than anything else she'd seen so far. It was outrageous.

"Hey, Speedy," a deep voice behind them said, making Felicity jump. They spun around to see Oliver standing just inside the doorway, leaning negligently against the doorframe. Crap. How did he make that look so good? "Can I speak to Felicity alone for a few moments?"

"Oh! Sure!" Thea jumped up and Felicity had a wild urge to grab her hand and beg her to stay. She flashed a smile and Felicity did her best to return it. "I'll be back in a bit and we can go through more dresses." With that, the younger Queen sailed out of the room.

The room seemed to shrink as she realized she was alone with Oliver Queen. He still stood in the doorway, watching her. She began to feel uneasy and fought the urge to fidget. Instead, she got to her feet and stepped away from the desk. "What did you want to talk about?" she asked him.

"Are you sure you're on board for this?" he asked.

"Sure, why not. Will keep me from being a miserable spinster, right? I'll just be a miserable married woman instead."

Oliver made a face. "I know you aren't happy with this situation and I can assure you, this isn't my first choice either. Can you try to keep the sarcasm under control?"

"So this wasn't your idea? This whole marriage thing?"

He fixed her with a deadpan look. "No. Hardly. This was my mother's idea. I'm not saying that I don't agree with her reasoning. This will benefit us both."

"You mean, it benefits you and your family and it benefits my father. I am having a hard time seeing how I'm benefiting here."

"The house? The money?"

Felicity made a dismissive noise. "Yes, that's all very nice but I'd rather have my own life back. Seeing as how that's not going to happen… I can make the best of this if you can."

"No more snide comments, then?"

"I can't promise that."

Oliver pressed his lips into a thin line and she had to congratulate herself on getting to him, at least a little. The Queens could control the details of her life but they couldn't control who she was.

"I have something for you," he said, changing the subject. He pushed off the doorframe and approached her. He moved like a jungle cat, Felicity thought. Come to think of it, she rather felt like his prey.

"What is it?" she asked, hoping her voice wasn't as breathy as it sounded to her own ears.

Oliver stopped just before her and reached into his pocket. He drew out a small velvet box and her breath caught.

"We need to do this right. This is a family piece," he told her. He lifted the lid and Felicity had to bite back a gasp.

The ring was gorgeous. She could tell it was an older piece but the giant, brilliant cut diamond sparkled brightly in the lights of the study. The platinum glittered, the scroll work catching her eye and she realized she was reaching it for it just before her fingers touched.

"Oh my God. Oliver. Are you sure? I mean, this looks like a family heirloom."

"It is," he confirmed.

"Maybe I should have something a little less… personal." Her mouth felt dry and she couldn't take her eyes off the ring. It was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen.

"My mother wants you to have this ring. _I_ want you to have this ring."

"It must be worth a fortune…"

"It's insured." He plucked the ring from its bed of velvet and set the box on the corner of the desk. He held it up and raised an eyebrow at her. "May I?"

Her voice utterly failed her. She nodded and held her right hand up, cringing internally as she saw how she trembled. Oliver took her hand in his, holding it steady. He was just about to slide the ring onto her third finger when she blurted, "Aren't you supposed to ask me first?"

He paused and looked at her. "Really?"

Felicity shrugged. "You said we need to do this right. This is the only time I'm getting proposed to, I imagine." When he continued to just stare at her with a bland expression, she got annoyed. "You could at least try to humor me."

"Felicity Smoak," he said, his voice deep but his eyes belying the seriousness of his tone, "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She sniffed and then smiled, a tight forced thing. "Yes, I would love to, Oliver."

"Beautiful," he muttered sardonically and he slid the ring onto her finger, pushing it until it rested at the base of her finger. He squeezed her hand before letting go and Felicity just stared at the sight of her hand with this incredible ring catching all the light in the room.

"So what now?" she asked, tearing her eyes from the ring to look at him.

"I don't know, not my department. I'll go find Thea," he said, hooking a thumb back over his shoulder.

"Wait! Shouldn't we at least try to get to know each other a little?"

Oliver paused, his forehead wrinkling. "Why?"

"I don't know anything about you. Other than what I've read in the tabloids," she told him.

"You can't believe everything you read," he replied, sounding harassed. She didn't miss how his shoulders seemed to have tightened.

"We're supposed to be husband and wife in a little over a week, I should know at least the basics."

"As I explained before, you'll accompany me to public events now and then and I can assure you, familiarity isn't very much of an issue at the sort of events we'd be attending. Here at home, we will be separate."

Felicity glared at him. "Aren't you the slightest bit interested in knowing about _me_?"

"My mother had a file on you so I already know all the details about your birthday and schooling and such. What else do I need to know?" Oliver shrugged negligently.

Felicity bristled. "That— That's cheating! That isn't the point! Oliver—!"

He cut her off swiftly. "Tell you what. I'll have her get you a file on me. You can read up while you're planning out floral arrangements with my sister."

Irritation prickled under her skin. He had the social skills of a caveman! How was she ever going to tolerate being _married_ to him? Forget separate bedrooms, they were going to need separate wings of the mansion.

"Fine. Get me a file, then. Send Thea back in here on your way out," she grumbled.

"See you at the wedding."

"Can't wait."

Felicity tried very hard not to look his way as he left the study but she glanced up and caught sight of how his trousers slid over his tight rear end as he walked out the door. She cursed herself under her breath. Who cared if he had an ass like an Adonis? He was insufferable. As she settled into the chair in front of the computer to wait for Thea to return, she caught sight of the ring on her finger. It was a gorgeous ring. And under different, _happier_ , circumstances, this would have been just the ring she would have wanted.

Sadness settled over her at the thought of giving up her life. But she knew she couldn't bear it if something happened to her family because she wouldn't go through with this. She knew there was no good way out of the arrangement. Still, a little part of her was sad to have to give up any romantic dreams she'd ever had.

Marriage had never been a huge priority of hers, especially given her own parents marriage, but she'd dreamed. Of course she had. Every girl does at one point or another. But if there was one thing Felicity had learned while growing up, it's that sometimes dreams don't come true and sometimes real life had other plans.

The next week passed in a blur. Thankfully, Felicity didn't have to do much more than give her approval on several choices brought to her by the wedding planner. She wasn't even asked about all the decisions which probably should have annoyed her but was actually more of a relief. Wedding details weren't something she was terribly interested in, especially when the wedding in question was little more than a sham. Thea was constantly phoning and texting her with ideas and suggestions and choices to make and Felicity began to think that the younger Queen might be the silver lining to her gloomy cloud of a future. The girl was bubbly, funny and had a knack for taking Felicity's mind off the less pleasant aspects of her whole deal with the Queen family.

Felicity had met with the wedding planner along with Thea and Moira the day after her initial meeting with Oliver. When asked who she wanted to invite to the ceremony and reception, Felicity had a very short list to give the woman. Her parents, of course, and a few friends from the IT department at Queen Consolidated. She wasn't in touch with anyone from before college and her list of buddies from MIT was so short as to be considered embarrassing. Thea, bless her, had thrown an arm around Felicity's shoulders and assured her that she'd see to it personally that she had plenty of new friends to meet in the future.

Oliver remained absent from that meeting and the few others she had the rest of the week. That was fine by Felicity, as she was still irritated by his brusque treatment of her the one and only time she'd spent any time alone with him. Moira kept making excuses for him, explaining that he had many meetings to attend at QC in order to take over the helm as CEO, but Felicity knew they were flimsy at best. If he'd really wanted to be there, he would have. He was being forced into this arrangement every bit as much as she was and was probably just as annoyed with her as she was with him.

Which didn't make any sense to her way of thinking. She'd made an effort to reach out to him. Sure, they might not be in love but she'd thought perhaps they could be friends. Or at least cordial with one another. No dice. At any rate, she'd been perfectly pleasant to him and if he was upset by her, then that was his own fault.

Frustrating man.

As the day drew nearer, Felicity grew ever more apprehensive. Moira had explained to her a few days ago that Felicity would no longer be working in the IT Department at QC. That was just not suitable for the wife of the Queen family scion. According to her, here would be plenty of endeavors to take up her time and Moira had promised she would collect a file of charity causes that Felicity could perhaps take up the mantle for. She got the message loud and clear; be young, pretty and keep your mouth shut. She was expected to paint the perfect society image and nothing more. Every conversation with Moira Queen consisted of the older women telling her how it was going to be and clearly expecting Felicity to go along with whatever she'd decided. In the interest of keeping the peace before the wedding, Felicity decided to keep her mouth shut. But if Moira thought she was going to sit around the mansion hosting tea parties for other closeted social wives and simpering on about local gossip, the Queen matriarch had another thing coming.

But it wasn't just her future as Mrs. Felicity Queen that had her nervous. She was worried about the wedding itself. It looked as though it was going to be quite the spectacle and all her hopes that the last minute nature of the affair would keep the chaos down to a dull roar were dashed when she saw the guest list. Everyone who was anyone in Starling City was invited. There were even some names on that list from out of town that made even her gasp. Celebrities, politicians, newsmakers and influencers and just about anyone you could think of was invited. And, even with the last-minute status of the thing, _coming_. Felicity was expected to get up in front of all these people and convincingly act our a lie. She'd never been good at drama in school and there had been nothing before in her life to prepare her for this.

Thea had also talked to her about the paparazzi that would be in attendance and how Moira had arranged for a few reputable sources to be on hand for photographs and the like. The startling reality of her new celebrity status settled on her shoulders like a dead weight. All week long she'd been assigned a driver and bodyguard and Felicity hadn't really thought much of it, but she now realized that would be the way of things from here on out. Privacy? What privacy? Felicity Smoak was now _hot news_.

Which lead to phone calls and emails and texts from people she hadn't seen or heard from in years. Eventually, Felicity started to ignore everything. With no job to go to any more and the press to deal with out in the world, she stayed in and caught up on her favorite shows on Netflix all week instead.

That afternoon, the day before the wedding, Thea had called, wanting to take her out for an impromptu bachelorette party. Felicity had begged off, claiming that she still had some packing to do. The youngest Queen didn't need to know that she'd sealed up the last box the night before. Felicity just didn't feel much like celebrating. Episodes of "Spartacus" and a bottle of wine sounded much more her speed.

She was just settling down on her couch with the remote control in hand when there was a knock at her townhouse door. Grumbling and expecting another errant reporter, she got up and crossed to the door so she could look out the peephole and see who it was.

"Thea!" she cried when she opened the door.

The young woman breezed in, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume in her wake. In her hands, she carried several bags. "You won't come to the party, so therefore, the party must come to you," she declared.

Felicity followed helplessly as Thea strode through the living room, eyeing the boxes stacked neatly along the walls. "Looks like you're all packed. I'm just going to assume you finished earlier than expected rather than think you were blowing me off."

She flushed. "It's just… you want to celebrate and I just don't feel…"

Thea's expression softened and she set her bags down on the sofa. She turned to Felicity and enveloped her in a warm hug. "You don't feel like celebrating. I get it, that this is a raw deal for you." She drew back and gave her a serious look. "But look at it from my perspective. After tomorrow I'm going to have a _sister_. I won't be alone in that giant fortress I call home."

"That's a good point," Felicity replied. "I've never had a sister before…"

"Neither have I. I'm looking forward to it. My mom isn't so bad but she's so busy all the time with Queen Consolidated and everything else she does, she doesn't have much time for movie marathons and polishing each other's nails. I'm counting on you, Felicity." Thea paused for a moment, considering. "Do you have any nicknames? It's just such a long name. Lis?"

"Not that one," Felicity said sharply. "Sorry, that's what my dad calls me and I've just… never liked it."

"No problem. How about… hmm… Fee. I'm going to call you Fee."

Felicity's eyebrows shot up. She hadn't heard that one before. "Okay. That works."

"Great! Now, let's get this party started."

Felicity watched as Thea picked the bags up and took them to the kitchen and began to empty the contents onto her counter. Several bottles of alcohol were followed by pints of ice cream and a DVD. A manilla file folder on the counter got pushed to the side and Felicity folded her lips and fought the rolling of her eyes. Oliver had made sure she'd gotten a file on him, as promised. And here was nothing new in there, nothing she couldn't have already found online. That man frustrated her to no end.

"How did you buy alcohol? You're only twenty, right?"

Thea arched an eyebrow. "You know I manage Verdant, don't you? Acquiring alcohol is so not a problem."

"Right," she breathed. "What's the movie?"

"Magic Mike." She waggled her eyebrows. "What's a bachelorette party without a little half-naked man candy?"

Felicity could only laugh.

Thea yanked open a nearby box labeled "flatware" and pulled out a couple of spoons. She handed one and a pint of mint chip to Felicity and grabbed the other. "Time for girl's night, don't you think?"

Felicity clinked spoons with the young woman soon to become her sister and smiled. "Let's do it."

Maybe it would do her good to focus on the bright side, considering there was more than enough dark side to go around. As they settled down on the sofa and started up the dvd, Felicity realized that Thea presented the perfect distraction on the eve of this farce of a wedding.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Once again, you all have humbled me with your response to this story. I'm truly thankful for everyone's support in this. I'm currently in the middle of writing chapter 13 and I think there are 16 chapters total so I'm very close to being done! When I am done, I will speed up the update schedule. :)**

 **A few things I want to remind people: this is not a Bratva AU. There is no Bratva here. Just vague hints at a mob. It's more an "arranged marriage AU" with the mob as the reason for the arranged marriage. Also, I appreciate everyone telling me the things they would like to see in upcoming chapters (or the things that they hope will not happen) but do keep in mind that I've probably already written past what you're suggesting. This is a story I've had planned out since last September and I plan to stay fairly faithful to my outline. If I cross any lines for you, I understand if you'd want to stop reading. And I apologize if I don't spend more time on certain story elements that you enjoy. I hope you will enjoy what I've written anyway.**

 **Once again, big thanks to mersayseh for giving this a look for me. She's a peach.**

"Shit!"

The loud exclamation woke Felicity up out of a deep sleep and she had that disorienting moment where she struggled to leave behind her dreams and come to wakefulness. The light was too bright, everything was too loud and she struggled to sit up, only to give up and flop back down again. A moment later, someone yanked on her arm.

"Fee! Get up! We're late already!"

She winced at the panicked volume but was able to recognize the voice (and the hand yanking on her arm) as belonging to Thea Queen. She struggled to open her eyes again, squinting at the brightness, and allowed Thea to pull her into a sitting position.

She was on the sofa in her living room. An empty pint of ice cream, a discarded spoon, and several empty bottles of both liquor and wine sat on the coffee table. The television was on but the DVD player logo was bouncing around the screen idly. Vaguely, she recalled staying up with Thea, watching movies and drinking and acting generally goofy. The bonding time with her soon-to-be sister was invaluable but as her head throbbed painfully, perhaps staying up so late and drinking so much wasn't the best plan.

"Late for what?" she asked. Then… "Wait, what time is it?"

"It's 10am! You were supposed to be at the mansion to start getting ready at 9!"

"Shit!"

There was a flurry of activity as she and Thea quickly left Felicity's townhouse. There was no point in taking a shower or even changing clothes. Hunger gnawed at her belly as Thea drove her in her sporty coupe through the streets of Starling towards the outskirts where the Queen mansion was located. Breakfast would have been nice and she thought it might have helped ease her headache but there wasn't time and Thea promised she'd find them some munchies once they got to the house.

Felicity gnawed on her lip nervously as Thea navigated quickly through the streets. This wasn't going to ingratiate her with her new mother-in-law one bit. She had the impression that Moira Queen was a woman who had high expectations of the people around her and judged harshly when those expectations weren't met. Still, the wedding wasn't until 1pm and there was still plenty of time to get ready.

Oh well, nothing could be done about it now. She just sincerely hoped there was some aspirin on hand at the mansion to help her quell this horrible headache.

"Where the fuck is she?" Oliver shouted. He was pacing in his room, glaring out the windows. His nerves were frayed and he was officially out of patience. His mother stood in the doorway, her lips pursed.

"Thea just called and said they're on their way. Apparently she stayed over at her townhouse last night and they overslept."

"I thought you said Ms. Smoak was the sort of woman who wouldn't rock the boat? What if she's trying to ditch out on the wedding altogether?" Oliver asked. What he didn't say was that he'd had thought about escaping himself. But he hadn't, he was here as expected and ready to get this farce over with.

"Oliver, relax," Moira soothed, crossing the room to him and laying a hand on his arm. "She will be here."

"How do you know that?" If she didn't show up… he would hunt her down. He wouldn't allow her to humiliate him like this.

"I would be more worried if Thea weren't with her," she admitted. "But she is and your sister will make sure Felicity gets here."

Okay, that was a good point. Oliver nodded curtly and looked back out the window at the drive leading up to the house. He didn't even realize someone else had entered the room until a warm hand landed on his shoulder, patting comfortingly.

"Hanging in there, buddy?"

Oliver turned around, smile already on his lips. "Tommy, thank god you're here."

His best friend grinned at him, the skin around his blue eyes crinkling slightly as he stepped forward to wrap him in an embrace. "You didn't think I was gonna let you face the noose alone, did you?"

Oliver noticed his mother had left, shutting the door. She wasn't stupid, she knew if anyone could calm Oliver's nerves it was probably Tommy Merlyn. He released his friend and stepped back.

"I couldn't do this without you, Tommy."

In the two weeks since he'd been back home, Oliver had spent most of his free time with his best friend. Tommy had taken him out for drinks the next night after he returned home and had filled him in on everything with himself and Laurel Lance.

Oliver actually felt bad for the poor bastard. Tommy's father, Malcolm, was stringently opposed to the couple. Just this last weekend, the news that Laurel and Tommy were a hot item had gotten back to her detective father and now Quentin Lance was on the bandwagon, forbidding his daughter from associating with Tommy. With the pressure on her and the ever-looming threat of being disowned by his father, Tommy and Laurel had had to stop seeing one another.

His friend was obviously miserable about this, which told Oliver that his feelings for the assistant district attorney were real. As such, he hadn't known if Tommy would show up today or not. After all, who could bear going to a wedding when suffering heartbreak, even if it was a sham?

He'd filled Tommy in on all the details. He couldn't bear to hide the truth of his marriage from his best friend and Tommy would have quickly figured it out anyhow. It'd been nice to have someone to commiserate about the completely shit situation he'd found himself in with this.

"So where's the bride? I should probably go introduce myself, don't you think?" Tommy said, rubbing his hands together. He was already decked out in his tux, just like Oliver was, ready to serve as Best Man.

"She's not here yet," Oliver grumbled.

Tommy's eyes widened. "Shouldn't she be getting dolled up somewhere in the mansion by now? Don't you have pictures before the ceremony?"

Oliver shrugged. He gave his friend the short version of where Felicity was and why she was late.

"Ah well. I'm sure it'll be fine. The important question is: how are _you_ doing, buddy? Got any pre-wedding jitters?"

"Yeah, I guess you could call it jitters," he said with a sigh.

"I never thought you'd be the first one of the two of us to get married," Tommy remarked.

"Me either. I'd have been happy to stay single the rest of my life."

"She's not ugly, you told me she wasn't. You also said she seems smart… maybe the two of you could make the best of it."

Oliver glared at him.

Tommy chuckled. "Or maybe not. Just… be open, Ollie."

"Open? Are you kidding me right now, Merlyn?"

He held up his hands in front of him in surrender. "I'm on your side, you know I am. I'm just saying, don't look for ways to make this more difficult than it has to be. That's all."

"We'll see." As he crossed the room to pour him and Tommy some scotch from the minibar, Oliver didn't think he was going to hold his breath. Felicity was attractive and intelligent, that was true, but she was far from being anyone he wanted to get involved with. Plainly put, he didn't want to be involved with anyone period. He didn't deserve it.

Despite his worries beforehand and Felicity's late arrival, the wedding went off without a hitch. The ceremony took place out by the gardens, which were in full bloom. The guests, all two hundred and fifty of them, sat in white chairs on either side of a long white satin runner that led to the dais he'd stood upon with Tommy at his side. Thea had stood in as her maid of honor and had looked beside herself with delight at all the glamour.

Felicity's father walked her, tottering slightly, down the aisle to where he stood. She'd looked… spectacular. But he'd expected no less from the combined efforts of his mother, his sister, and the wedding coordinator.

Her arms were bared to the warm spring sun. The dress was a satin and lace vision and he couldn't have begun to think of how to describe it, only that it was amazing. She looked demure and elegant, a long veil clouding her features and her blond hair pinned away from her face. Oliver couldn't help the slight stumble his heart did as she approached him. He could almost pretend this was real, that she was the woman he loved. Looking like that, she made it easy.

He studied her, as the minister prattled on about love and honor and, best of all, duty. Because that wasn't at _all_ obvious. Felicity was studying the bouquet of lilies she still clutched in her hands as though it held all the answers in the world. This was the first he'd seen her since she'd gotten to the mansion. Thea had hidden her away from him and his mother had cautioned him to let his sister have her way with this.

Though her features were slightly obscured by the veil, he could still make out enough details to be reminded of just how pretty she was. It made him wonder if this sham of a marriage would be easier if she was ugly. Or plain.

The ceremony was a blur. He said all the right things at all the right times… He even recalled the moment where Felicity passed off her bouquet to Thea so that he could slide the wedding band onto her finger. He noticed the slight tremble in her hand but it was the only outward indication that she was anything but serenely confident.

The next thing Oliver was aware of was the minister announcing them as husband and wife and giving him permission to kiss his bride. _Oh, shit._ He hadn't even considered this part of it. Well, they were going to have to put on a public face so they may as well start here. Oliver reached for the edge of her veil, lifting it up over her head.

Felicity blinked up at him and for one brief moment, everything stopped. Her blue eyes twinkled in the afternoon light and a light blush colored her pale cheeks. Everything faded away, leaving just the two of them, standing here. Facing each other. Oliver cupped her jaw and noticed how she sighed, her eyes drifting down to his lips. Then her eyes lifted to his again and he saw her gaze harden into the glare he remembered from their encounter from the day they'd met.

This was business. This was duty. Nothing more than that. He needed to remember that and never lose sight of it. He could kiss her and it would be just a gesture, nothing more. He bent towards her and captured her lips.

It was a brief contact, a second in time to make the proper impression on all the glitterati that was assembled before them, but in that second, he tasted her. Her scent filled his head and he felt her soft lips pressed to his. The beast inside him clamored for more, more, _more_. But Oliver regained himself and pulled back, breaking the contact.

The music swelled and they walked down the aisle, hand in hand. As soon as they reached the end of the rows of chairs, Felicity dropped his hand. Moments later they were whisked away for photographs and other pomp and circumstance, including the receiving line at the reception, which was taking place in an enormous tent that had been constructed down near the pond.

They hadn't exchanged so much as a word save for their vows.

Felicity was becoming increasingly concerned that this day would never end. Despite the aspirin Thea had shoved into her hand this morning after they'd finally arrived at the mansion, she still had a touch of a headache. She'd eaten her breakfast, a banana and a glass of juice, standing up as she listened to Moira Queen chastise both her and Thea for their irresponsible behavior. That hadn't helped the "meal" sit very easily on her stomach, regretfully. After that, it was a whirlwind of showering, drying, waxing, buffing, plucking, moisturizing, brushing, curling, pinning and being lacquered with so many layers of makeup that Felicity just knew it was going to take no less than ten minutes to scrub all of it off later on tonight.

The ceremony was nothing short of nerve-wracking. The guest list turned out to be every bit as awe-inspiring as she'd feared and to have them all watching her keenly as she walked down the aisle gave new meaning to phrase 'under a microscope'. Frack, talk about intimidating!

Her father, she couldn't help but notice, was at least slightly drunk. She could tell by the wobble in his step and could smell it on him when he leaned in to kiss her cheek as she was passed off to Oliver at the end of the aisle. She'd barely had time to worry about him making a scene and embarrassing her before the proceedings were underway.

Oliver looked as cool as he had the day she'd met him. Maybe more so with his tailored tux that fit him far better than any suit ever had a right to. She'd caught him watching her during the short ceremony and had to distract herself by counting the lily petals in her bouquet. That man's stare was unnerving and arousing and just… not what she needed in order to keep her head on for the rest of this awful day.

The kiss was… well, it was unexpected. Not the kiss part, of course, she'd been expecting that. Had expected a little peck on the lips, dry and uninspired. Nothing more, nothing less. But then, as he'd lifted here veil, Oliver had met her eye and she'd seen something there… it reminded her a bit of the way he'd looked at her the day they'd met. Warmer, though. Appreciative. Then he'd kissed her and it had been softer and more lingering than she'd expected. And, as he'd pulled away, she'd found she wanted to kiss him again.

The recessional playing had disrupted her fog and when they'd reached the end of the aisle, Felicity had been quick to snatch her hand back from Oliver's grip. She needed some distance from him because for whatever reason, being in his orbit muddied her thoughts.

Luckily, there was plenty to distract her and keep her thoughts from her new husband. It was surprisingly easy to ignore him in the professional photographs they had to pose for. Thea was right there at her elbow, smiling and laughing with her. The only dicey moment was when Oliver stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist so he held her back against him. Felicity didn't think she breathed until the photo was taken and he stepped away.

After the photos, they stood in a receiving line (Felicity kept some distance in between them and made sure not to make eye contact), greeting the various guests until the names all swam in her mind. She knew she'd never remember a soul she'd met that day.

There was one man she was going to remember, however, and that was Tommy Merlyn. Oliver's best friend could give him lessons on how to be friendly and charming.

"Felicity Smoak! Or should I say… Felicity Queen? We meet at last," he greeted her, lifting her hand to her lips and brushing a kiss over her knuckles.

"You must be the infamous Tommy Merlyn," she said, unable to hide a smile.

"The one and only. You are a _vision_. Oliver did not tell me how beautiful you were. Of course, if he had, I might have stolen you for my very own." Tommy's dark blue eyes twinkled at her. Oh, she liked him. He was a smooth one.

"And you, Mr. Merlyn, are a flatterer."

"Don't call me that, Mr. Merlyn is my father and my father is an enormous asshole," Tommy told her, glancing over his shoulder to where his father, Malcolm Merlyn was talking to a few other other important looking people.

"Noted."

Oliver had steered her back to the receiving line then and unless she was mistaken, he'd given Tommy a particularly hard look as he did so. Felicity couldn't imagine why.

Later, she found some of her old friends from the IT department and spent a little time chatting with them. She really hated that Moira had made her give up her job. It wasn't even the money. She liked working with computers and she'd liked the people she worked with too. Maybe once this wedding was behind them, she would have a talk with the matriarch and see if she could get her job back. Charity luncheons were fine and all, but Felicity needed more in her life than cucumber sandwiches and fine china.

Eventually, Felicity figured out a way to detach her mind from what was happening around her. She could keep her friendly smile in place, say all the right things to the right people and her mind would just wander free from what was happening. The whole day was like an extended nightmare that she couldn't wake from. The screw that tightened was her very attractive new husband and things she was forced to do throughout the day with him in the name of tradition and propriety.

Like cutting the cake. When she'd seen it in tv shows and movies it had always looked simple enough; you cut the cake with the groom and then each take turns feeding each other a little piece. Simple, right? _Wrong_. Because there was the weight of his hand resting over hers on the knife as they sliced into the multi-tiered flour and sugar monstrosity. Then there was the way his eyes glowed as she presented a small cube of cake before his lips. He opened his mouth just enough to accept the morsel but kept his eyes on hers as his lips closed over her index finger and thumb before she could retract them.

 _Holy shit._

Then it was her turn and Felicity just knew she was turning several unflattering shades of red as he brought the cake up to her mouth. She opened her mouth and he delicately placed the bite inside her mouth, but he also let his fingers trail over her lower lip as he slowly withdrew.

The whole thing was entirely too sexually charged. Why hadn't the movies warned her about _that_? Or had they and she hadn't noticed? _Frack_.

But that wasn't even the worst thing. Sometime after the meal and Tommy Merlyn's wryly sarcastic Best Man's speech, there was the first dance. It turned out to be another wedding tradition that Felicity had sorely underestimated. As the strains of "The Way You Look Tonight" were struck up by the band, Oliver lead her to the dance floor.

He held her carefully, his hands placed on her hip and in her other hand as he steered her around the floor in time to the music. She could have let her mind wander free if not for the way his touch burned through the layers of satin and lace to scorch her skin underneath. Or the way those fingers slowly moved from her hip up around her back, pressing between her shoulder blades and drawing her body closer to his as they moved.

To any outside observer, they probably looked just like any other newly married couple taking their first dance. Which, Felicity supposed was the whole point. But she knew this was a sham. She and Oliver barely knew each other and as far as she knew, he didn't even like her.

But if he didn't like her, why was he holding her like this? She looked up to find his blue eyes boring into her as though he'd just been asking himself some very similar questions. She swallowed heavily and his eyes traced the movement in her throat. Felicity could feel her skin heating up, both from his attention and his nearness. This was bad. She had to get away from him.

As soon as the song was over, she extricated herself from his grasp and giving him a staged but shaky smile, walked off the dance floor as the other wedding guests crowded on, ready to have their own fun. Felicity headed right for the open bar, desperately needing a drink. Normally, her drink of choice was a nice glass of red wine but right now she needed something a little stiffer.

She supposed it shouldn't have surprised her to find her father standing at the bar already, drinking. She wondered how many he'd already had today. Doing her best not to worry about it, she stepped up and waved to get the bartender's attention.

"Shot of Patron, please," she requested.

"That's my girl," her father slurred, tipping his glass towards her. "Though I'm more of a Jim Beam man myself."

"I know it," Felicity said under her breath as the bartender set the shot glass in front of her and poured out the clear liquid for her.

"I just wanted to thank you again, Lis. You're the best daughter in the world," he told her. She turned to look at him then, taking in his bloodshot eyes and disheveled suit and hair. He looked a mess. Felicity scanned the crowd for her mother. She should find her and ask her to take him home before he did something embarrassing.

"Looking for Donna?" her father asked. "She's over talking to your new mother in law, looks like." He pointed and Felicity saw that he was right. She started towards the pair but her father stopped her with a hand around her wrist.

"Where you goin'?"

"To ask her to take you home. You're drunk."

He made a dismissive noise loud enough for the people around them to turn and look. Felicity's cheeks heated. "Dad, please."

"I'm not drunk, Lis, I'm just gettin' started!"

"Lower your voice. Please."

"I just want a dance with my daughter. I should get that, right? Father of the bride and all?" He began to tug her towards the dance floor.

Felicity resisted. If he got her out there, he'd make an even bigger fool of them both. "No. Dad, let me go get mom, please?"

"Just one dance, sweetheart. Do it for me," he slurred, pulling her along until they reached the dance floor. Felicity tried to extract herself but Jerry Smoak was stronger than he looked.

"Let go," she said in a low voice. People around them stopped dancing to watch.

"Lis, don't be like that. You're just like your mom," he told her and his alcohol saturated breath blew over her face, causing her to wince.

She pulled against his grip a few more times, useless as it was to try and she was about to demand he let her go again when a hand slapped down on Jerry's shoulder.

"I believe my wife said she wasn't interested in a dance," a deep voice growled, low enough so that those around them couldn't hear. Jerry's eyes widened as he turned to see Oliver standing behind him, looking distinctly threatening. Instantly, he released her wrist.

Felicity couldn't have imagined she'd ever be so happy to see him, but she was. Her relief nearly overwhelmed the humiliation she felt at Oliver having to interject at all. Her face was on fire, bright red no doubt, and she couldn't meet his eye.

"I just wanted a dance," Jerry protested, though his voice was meeker now.

"It's a shame she wasn't interested," Oliver replied. He turned his attention to her and his gaze held hers. "Why don't you go get your mother, ask her to take him home?"

Felicity could only nod, her voice stuck in her throat, as she turned and walked off the dance floor towards her mother. How was she supposed to feel about this? Was Oliver upset with her father for being drunk and disorderly at the reception or was there something else going on? Because, try as she might to talk herself out of it, Felicity could swear she'd seen sympathy in his eyes before she'd walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello everyone! Happy Tuesday! Guess what? I am halfway through writing the FINAL chapter! Which means, if I keep my focus today and don't wander off to Tumblr and Twitter overmuch, I should have this whole thing finished by tonight. Which also means... I could begin posting chapters daily starting tomorrow (or would that be today since I posted today and then might post tomorrow too and then the day after and the day after...?).**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry I've not included them taking a honeymoon (I don't believe they would in this circumstance). They are very much still in the "separate rooms" phase of the relationship and they remain there for, oh... let's just say a REALLY LONG TIME. This story, after all, is about how they GET together. Not about how they ARE together.**

 **Before I dive in, quick thank you to mersayseh for giving this a read for me. Believe me when I say, if not for her, I might never have gotten off my rump and finished this thing.**

It had been a month since the wedding. Since then, things had been tense at the Queen mansion.

Oliver knew he'd pushed Felicity too far the day of the wedding. It was just that he'd enjoyed far too much the obvious affect he'd had on her. The way her breath quickened in his presence, the way her cheeks flushed prettily and how her eyelashes fluttered as she fought not to meet his eye.

He'd _really_ enjoyed the way he'd been able to make her drop the icy shield she tried so hard to keep in place around him.

But he'd pushed too far and now she went to great pains to avoid being alone with him. Whenever he was around, she had his sister or his mother or even Raisa there as well. And all of their interactions were limited to bickering and sarcastic commentary. From arguments over passing the salt at dinner, to cutting accusations of him misplacing her tablet from where she'd left it in the living room, everything was confrontational.

Quite frankly, it was getting on his nerves.

And it wasn't because she was aggravating. Oh sure, she was. But the worst part was that he was starting to look at her differently. It started the day of the wedding, when he'd teased her mercilessly. The way she'd reacted to him had affected him more than he'd expected it would. Then there'd been that incident with her father.

Oliver knew from the file Moira had given him on Felicity that Jerry Smoak was far from being a candidate for Father of the Year. He'd grown increasingly disgusted as he'd read through the brief personal history the family had gathered on her. Jerry was a shiftless, unreliable gambler and drug addict. And, apparently an alcoholic on top of all that. Moira had assured him after the wedding that she'd impressed upon Jerry the importance of him retaining some propriety for the big day. But, clearly, that had been too much for him to maintain.

Oliver's heart had gone out to Felicity. He'd seen the way her face had fallen when she'd seen how drunk her father was. For the first time, he'd seen her as more than just a shy and awkward young woman. He'd seen a daughter, hurt that her father would embarrass her his way and disappointed that he had let her down again. It made Oliver wonder what sort of damage had been done to her with this whole arrangement. Felicity was his wife now because of her father's indiscretions after all.

As a result, Oliver had started to look at Felicity differently. He was curious about her feelings and how she was coping with this change in her life. He wanted to know more about her, the things she liked and what she liked to do in her free time. But she was making that extremely difficult by either hiding from him altogether or snapping at him when they did cross paths. That just made him snap back out of frustration and the cycle continued.

Hopefully, there was going to be a temporary cease-fire on hostilities tonight. The family was hosting some potential investors from out of town for Queen Consolidated. As Oliver was slowly but surely taking over the reigns with the company, he was trying to take the family in a more legitimate direction. Wooing these investors was a key part of his plan. The less they needed to rely on gambling and prostitution, the better.

Surely, his mother had spoken with Felicity about keeping the peace. She knew how much Oliver wanted tonight to go well and she was frustrated with Felicity as well. While she hadn't said much to him about it in the last month, he knew his mother was noticing that Felicity wasn't quite the demure wife that she'd expected. And Oliver knew that had to be galling her.

The dinner was being hosted at the Queen mansion so Oliver left the QC offices a little early that evening to come home and put on a nice tux for the event. Oh yes, his mother had assured him this dinner would be very formal and very much likely to impress the potential investors. He stepped out of the shower with plenty of time to spare and watched the local news as he dressed. Hopefully, Felicity was in her room next door to his, doing something similar. Oliver was just buttoning up his shirt when there was a knock at his door.

"Who is it?" he called out.

"Your darling sister!"

"Come on in, Speedy."

Thea came waltzing into his room. She was dressed to the nines, of course. Her couture gown was a little risqué for the formal atmosphere, showing a little too much skin at the chest and thigh, but he decided against saying anything. He knew, living around women, that one had to pick their battles.

"Looking good, Ollie. Mom sent me up to see if you were ready yet."

He began to tie his bowtie, glancing in the mirror that stood in the corner to help guide his hands. "Just about. I should be down in a minute." His hands dropped and he faced Thea. "Why?"

She shrugged a smooth shoulder. "Some people just arrived and she sent me to see if you were ready yet."

 _Shit_. Oliver jerked his sleeve, checking his watch. They must be early. "Tell her I'll be down in a minute." Thea turned and walked to the door. "Wait. Speedy, tell me Felicity is down there already."

Thea bit her lip and shifted her eyes away. Never a good sign.

"Thea…"

"She just got home," his sister finally admitted. Just before those people got here. She was on her way upstairs when the bell rang.

Oliver felt fury surge through him in an instant. He turned back to the mirror, his fingers jerking as he tied his bowtie before he sang back around. "She knows how important tonight is. Where the hell was she?"

"Don't ask me! I'm just the messenger. Besides, I need to get back down there. Mom is looking a little put out."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Go. I'll be down in a minute."

Thea departed quickly and Oliver paused for a moment, breathing, trying to regain his temper. It wasn't working. How _dare_ she do this to him! It was as though she was doing this on purpose! He clenched his jaw, and crossed to the door that separated their rooms. He rapped a few times on the wood. There was no response.

"Felicity!" he called out. Knocked again. Nothing. "Felicity, I know you're in there! I need to speak to you!"

Still nothing.

Oliver tried the handle and found it unlocked. He pushed the door open and stepped into her room.

He hadn't been in here since she'd moved into the mansion the day of the wedding. Before, it had been fairly generically decorated. As it was attached to his room, it was meant to be a part of a suite of rooms meant for a family so they had all been coordinated in color and style. Oliver's room had slate blue walls and heavy, dark wood furniture. Before the wedding, the adjoining room had plain cream colored walls and the same dark wood furniture. Now, however…

Oliver stood in the middle of the room, his brow furrowed. The walls were a soft lavender and the wood wainscoting had been painted white. The furniture looked all new and white to match the wainscoting. The bed was done up in yellow and lavender linens with about a billion pillows piled near the slatted headboard.

The room looked completely different. He heard some noise coming from one of the doors off the bedroom and turned his attention towards it. "Felicity?" he called out.

Then he heard something melodic, a humming sound. The song was vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it. While he was trying to figure that out, Felicity emerged from what he now realized was the en suite bathroom, wrapped in a towel. A towel that covered her from just above her breasts to the tops of her thighs. And nothing else.

Oliver was frozen in place, transfixed. She hadn't noticed him yet, must not have heard him over her own humming and singing. Her bare shoulders glistened with drops of water. Her long blonde hair was lose and wet and she was running a towel gently through it as she entered the room, humming. The strands were darker when wet, dragging against the dewey skin of her back and shoulder. Her face was free of makeup, her eyelashes spiky and her lips and cheeks flushed from the temperature of her shower.

She looked at least five years younger and so beautiful that Oliver had a hard time taking a breath. He'd come in here to confront her about being late and now all he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her senseless.

 _What the hell?_

Just then Felicity turned and saw him standing there, gaping at her. She made a squeak and jumped, clutching the towel she'd been using on her hair to her chest.

"Oliver! What the hell are you doing in here! You scared the crap out of me!"

Her flustered indignation reminded him of why he'd barged in here in the first place. "I was trying to figure out why you were just now getting ready for this dinner. I told you to be ready by six. My mother told you! You know how important this is!"

"I was out," she replied simply, lifting her nose in the air.

"Doing _what_? You have no job anymore. Nothing else could be as remotely important as this dinner is to me and this whole family."

Felicity's eyes narrowed and the color on her cheeks rose. "I would love to have a job to go to. I was _good_ at that job and I had friends there. I had plans for my future, a dream to put my MIT education to good use! But thanks to you and your mother, I don't even have that anymore!"

Oliver blinked, confused. "Why are you mad at _me_? You're the one who's late for this dinner!"

"I was at the animal shelter, okay? Your mom said I could pick a charity or two to support and I chose homeless dogs, okay? Are you happy now that you know everything?"

Her lower lip was trembling in fury and her blue eyes had grown icy and hard as she glared at him. Of _course_ she was working with homeless dogs. While he didn't know much about her personally and he'd purposefully avoided knowing her personally, he couldn't say he was surprised. The damned woman seemed to exude kindness from her pores and as much as her _goodness_ frustrated him when he wanted to be mad at her, he had to admit it also made her so fucking _appealing_. In addition, part of him couldn't help thinking she looked magnificent when she was angry so there was that too. But then the other part was still infuriated that she was knowingly late to the biggest dinner he was going to host all year.

"No, I'm not happy! I want your ass in that dress," he paused, pointing at the gown that was hanging off the back of her closet door, "and downstairs in ten minutes. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," she growled. "Now get out of my room and don't you come back in here unless I've given you permission."

Breathing in deep through his nose, Oliver stepped up to her so that she was forced to tilt her head back to continue looking him in the eye. "I will come into your room whenever I damn well feel like it because this is my house and you are my wife. Got that?"

There was stony silence for a second. Then… "I hate you," she said in a voice so quiet he almost didn't hear her, even though he stood toe to toe with her.

It shouldn't have bothered him that she said that, but it did. Oliver tried to cover his reaction, nodding and stepping back. "Glad that we understand each other. Remember: ten minutes."

He walked back to his room, letting the door that separated their rooms slam behind him.

Why on earth would Felicity saying that she hated him bother him in the slightest? He and his family had basically forced her into this marriage by threatening to kill her father. Hating him should be expected by everyone _including_ him. So why did that whispered statement make him feel like he'd swallowed shards of glass?

He didn't have time to think about this right now. His guests were arriving and he needed to be downstairs. Huffing a breath, Oliver strode out of his room and towards the living room where everyone awaited him.

It was nearly a half hour later and they were all seated in the dining room before Felicity appeared. Oliver's anger was simmering, growing with each moment she didn't arrive, with each inquiry from a guest on the whereabouts of the wife they'd heard so much about. Moira did her best to deflect everyone's attention from it, but Felicity's absence was definitely glaring.

By the time she entered the formal dining room, Oliver was nearly ready to strangle her. He was half out of his seat without even thinking and froze in place as soon as he laid eyes on her.

He knew his wife was an attractive woman. He had eyes in his head, after all. And she'd been a vision on their wedding day, like a princess out of a fairy tale. That was not how she looked tonight. Instead of a princess, the woman who walked confidently into the dining room was a sleek seductress.

Felicity wore the dress he'd seen hanging from her closet doors but seeing that dress on a hanger hadn't prepared him for the experience of seeing it on her body. The royal blue color made her eyes pop, and highlighted the paleness of her skin. Her shoulders were exposed with the neck high, but there was a slit in the bodice that ran from the neck down to her waist. She was more than adequately covered, modest enough for the formal dinner, but the exposed flesh and the hint of more beyond the edge of the bright fabric was enough make Oliver's mouth run dry. The luxurious fabric draped over her body, hinting at the curve of her hips and ass before falling to the floor. As she walked towards her seat at the table, he could see flashes of her silver heels which matched the glint of the sparkling bracelet on her wrist and chandelier earrings that brushed the tops of her shoulders.

Her hair was pulled back into a loose but elegant bun, with a few curled ends escaped to soften the look around her face. As she smiled at everyone assembled, she looked calm, confident and completely stunning. Oliver didn't miss some of the open mouthed expressions of the men (and women) present.

Blinking, Oliver caught himself as he straightened and pulled out the chair next to him at the table for her. She didn't even look at him as she approached.

"I'm so sorry for my tardiness," she apologized to everyone, her smile and voice sincere. "It was unavoidable. I do hope you'll forgive me."

As he pushed in her chair and returned to his own seat, Oliver caught his mother's eye. She looked a little stunned as well. He'd expected a meeker entrance from Felicity and clearly his mother had as well. He couldn't complain, of course, because from the looks of it, the potential investors were eating it up.

Before Felicity's arrival, conversation at the table had been subdued, quiet and somewhat stilted. Oliver had assumed that things were awkward because no one knew each other. Moira had done her best to engage people in conversation, and even Thea had made an effort, which was new.

Now, with his wife seated at his side, suddenly the room was filled with conversation. Oliver stopped trying when it became clear no one was terribly interested in talking to him. He picked at his meal and watched the way Felicity engaged everyone. She started out by discussing more personal subjects, current events and pop culture, then once people were opening up, starting bringing up Queen Consolidated.

At one point, she bumped him very purposefully underneath the table with her foot, and he caught her cue. He filled in the business details where needed and, by the time the dessert course was served, he could clearly see that the investors were on the hook. Before long, they were asking her questions about Queen Consolidated and all but ignoring him. Oliver glanced to his mother again to find her looking at him with a mildly disapproving expression. He wasn't sure what she wanted him to do about it right here, in front of everyone.

So he just ate his chocolate mousse and let his anger fester.

At the end of the evening, Felicity was even charming as she was sending the investors, who were now more of an actual sure thing and less of a "potential", off into the night.

One of the men, Geoffrey Knight, paused and clasped Felicity's hand as he stood in the doorway. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Queen."

"The pleasure was all mine," she assured him with a big smile. Oliver, who stood at her elbow, couldn't imagine how she could keep up the facade so well as long as she had. He hadn't smiled and glad-handed near as much as she had and he was exhausted.

Mr. Knight's eyes darted to Oliver before he leaned in and spoke to Felicity in a confidential tone that Oliver still overheard. "Honestly, if it weren't for you, this evening would have been a wash."

Felicity just smiled wider and patted the man's hand fondly. "I understand. I'm sorry my husband isn't a very personable individual, but I'm working on him. I'm glad you were able to salvage your evening."

Oliver bristled. How dare she! Felicity's gaze slid to his and he could swear she smirked at him.

"All thanks to you." Mr. Knight turned his attention to Oliver and his open, friendly expression closed almost immediately. "My office will be in touch with yours for the paperwork, Queen. Thank you for the meal."

As soon as the last guest had left, Oliver's patience was hanging by a thread. Each investor had fawned over Felicity while gifting him with utter disdain. He felt humiliated and shamed. In his own home! This was most definitely not what he had signed up for when he married Felicity. He was ready to give her a piece of his mind.

Apparently, she knew it too. She turned to him, lifting an elegant eyebrow. "I think I've had enough of you for one evening," she told him, her tone still light and breezy. "I'll be heading upstairs. Ta."

Oliver watched, blood boiling, as she climbed the stairs. Thea joined her, linking arms and they chattered as they disappeared down the second floor hallway. Gritting his teeth and ignoring his mother's hand on his elbow, Oliver set off after her. No, they going to have this out. Right now.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: GOOD NEWS, guys! I finished the last chapter! Which means I'm ready to start posting daily. I might miss a day or two if its the weekend and I'm busy or something else is going on. But, barring that, we should have daily updates. Also, the reaction to yesterday's chapter was amazing. You all blow me away in the best way possible. Thank you for reading!**

 **This chapter is brought to you by coffee (which fuels me) and mersayseh (who fuels this story by giving it a beta-read!).**

"You kicked ass tonight, Fe," Thea told her, bumping her hip slightly with her own as they walked down the hallway together.

"Thank you. I don't think Oliver was too impressed," Felicity replied. She felt a slight twinge at that before reminding herself that he deserved to be annoyed with the way he'd spoken to her before the dinner.

Thea snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "No, he was not. I think he's got a pole up his ass or something. Maybe he just needs to get laid." She bumped her hip again.

Felicity fought a shudder. "We are not doing that," she assured her sister in law. "No. No, no, no. Nope. Nada."

Thea paused outside her door and turned to pout at her. "Now what kind of marriage is that?" she chastised. "You're ruining all my girlish dreams."

She made a noise, rolling her eyes at Thea before continuing down the hallway towards her and Oliver's suite of rooms. "Find your dreams elsewhere," she tossed over her shoulder.

God knew she sure had. Sitting around the mansion made Felicity feel stir crazy these days. Giving up her job at QC had been utterly awful. For two weeks, she'd puttered with a computer she'd brought with her to the mansion. After taking it apart and rebuilding it several times and adding several experimental modifications to the motherboard, she finally admitted she was getting stir crazy and had petitioned to leave the mansion.

That's when she'd discovered the local animal shelter was looking for volunteers. Growing up, Felicity had always wanted a dog but their situation at home had never been optimal for a pet of any kind, not even a pet rabbit. Still, she'd always had a soft heart for animals, especially those abandoned by society.

It was no small wonder she'd lost track of time earlier. Working at the shelter gave Felicity a sense of purpose again. She would much be rather working in her area of expertise and accomplishing all the goals she'd set out for herself, but helping these poor animals made her feel like at least she was doing something that made a difference. It wasn't much; mostly just taking dogs out in the yard, giving them baths, feeding all the animals, playing with the cats in the cat room. But she was already making friends with the other volunteers and already was in love with no fewer than 8 dogs.

Felicity sighed as she pushed open the door to her room, more than ready to shed this dress and climb between the covers. But before she could close her door behind her, it was pushed open by a large hand.

Oliver.

He pushed into her room and she unconsciously took several steps backwards. She'd seen her husband angry a few times before, generally because of something she'd said or done to deliberately irritate him, but never had she seen this snarling rage before.

"What the hell was all that?" he demanded, slamming the door behind him.

"That was dinner, Oliver. And I thought I told you not to come into my room?" She tilted her chin up when he towered over her, refusing to buckle under his icy glare.

"And I told you that I'll come in here whenever I like," he replied.

Felicity fought her natural urge, which was to slap him as hard as she could before pushing him bodily out of her room. As if she could even budge him; the man was built like a mountain. Still, it would certainly be cathartic to try.

"I'm not in the mood to be preached to right now, Oliver. I just want to get out of this dress and get into bed and sleep for the next seven hours."

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he continued to stare at her. "I'll let you have all the alone time you could want as soon as you tell me what you were doing downstairs with those investors."

"Being a gracious host? Making sure they were comfortable and entertained?" He couldn't be this dense, could he?

"You were making me look like an idiot," Oliver growled.

"You were being a rude, close-mouthed, wet blanket. When I walked into that dining room, it looked like someone's funeral. Your guests were miserable and you were doing that all on your own without me there!"

He stepped closer so that he was right in front of her. "I was handling it, just as I handle everything else."

"It's a miracle Queen Consolidated hasn't gone bankrupt yet, then! What's the big problem with me greasing the investors for you? Doesn't that work out into the company's favor in the end anyhow?"

"Because you were making me look bad, Felicity! I'm the face of Queen Consolidated now, not you!"

"Then start acting like it!" she cried back. "Don't be all grouchy and stoic during meetings and business dinners. Ask people about their lives, crack a smile or two… geeze, I shouldn't even have to tell you this, Oliver!"

"I don't need advice on how to do business from you," he shot back. "In the future, I would appreciate if you'd just do what you're supposed to, which is sit, look pretty and be quiet!"

Her blood rushed through her veins as she battled the surge of rage she felt. "How dare you," she muttered. "You will not treat me like I'm some object. I will act, with decorum, in whatever manner I see fit. Furthermore, I wouldn't have even been there if you and your mother hadn't insisted on it!"

Oliver's blue eyes snapped with anger as he glared at her. She knew she was right in this and she could tell that Oliver knew it too. But clearly, he was reluctant to admit defeat. When he didn't reply, she started to shift away from him.

"Now, if you don't mind…" She trailed off, gesturing towards the door that separated their rooms but before she could get the rest of her sentence out or turn away from him, his hand was on her arm and he was pulling her towards him.

Felicity tripped on her heels as her chest collided with his. He held her wrist tightly but his fingers didn't hurt. She started to ask him what he thought he was doing when she looked up and saw the expression on his face.

His eyes were dark and his jaw was set, but he was absolutely focused on her. Felicity realized, a little belatedly, that what she saw in his expression was desire. Before she could stop herself, she glanced down at his lips and had just a moment to consider how soft they looked and remember how they'd felt pressed against hers the day of their wedding before she came to her senses. She pulled on her wrist, trying to move away. Oliver grabbed at her hip with his other hand, keeping her anchored.

"Let me go," she murmured.

"Felicity, I—" He stopped and she definitely saw his eyes drift down to her mouth. Was he remembering that kiss too? Was he wanting to repeat it? Five minutes ago, Felicity would have dismissed the notion as utterly insane but right now, with his presence all around her and his gaze fixed on her, she wondered if she didn't want to repeat it too.

He hovered over her, his head bent towards her and her breath caught in her throat. They both stilled, waiting for the other to make a move, to say something, to do something. Felicity wasn't sure if she wanted him to kiss her or not. She couldn't think with his scent swirling around her like this.

After a moment, Oliver took a deep breath and moved back, releasing her wrist and her hip at the same time. Her skin felt cold at the loss of his heat and she grabbed her wrist and rubbed the skin there. Oliver's eyes focused on the movement and she realized he must think he'd hurt her because he took a few very large steps back from her.

"I— I'm sorry." He turned and took a few more steps towards his bedroom door before he paused again. He didn't turn back but she could tell by the line of his shoulders he was tense. "I'll stay out of your room without your permission in the future."

Then he was gone.

Felicity stood in the same place, feeling shaken.

Her husband had very nearly kissed her. And she'd actually wanted him to. Earlier, she'd wanted to strangle him! What was wrong with her?

A few weeks later, something happened that irrevocably changed the relationship Felicity had with Oliver. There'd been a sort of tense "cease fire" in the weeks since that dinner party. Oliver had been civil with her, almost to the point of graciousness. But he was definitely skittish around her.

He'd never admit it in a million years, of course. He always rushed out of the room when they were alone together with some sort of muttered excuse about a meeting or QC business or family business or some other development. She didn't force anything, mostly because she was just as unsure herself.

She couldn't stop thinking about that night, about how he'd nearly kissed her. She thought about how he'd kissed her at their wedding. There was no denying they had chemistry between them. She knew that if they both explored it, the result would be… explosive. But did they have anything _else_? Could she spend an afternoon with him without wanting to throttle him? That was the real question.

Frankly, she wasn't too keen to explore it. Her life was complicated enough without feelings for her husband (sexual or otherwise) creeping into it. She'd much rather pretend like there was nothing amiss and carry on as before.

There was something afoot with the Chinese Triad. She'd overheard rumblings around the mansion all week long. Apparently, that particular gang was pushing back against the Queen family and there was some intel that they planned to intercept a shipment down on the docks. Oliver didn't even go into the offices that day and was instead shut away in his study at the mansion with various members of their extended family in attendance.

Felicity was getting to know the familiar faces: There was John Diggle, Oliver's bodyguard and driver and also his right hand. Roy Harper was a younger member, but she'd seen him around quite a bit lately. She'd also seen him making eyes at Thea. Slade Wilson gave Felicity the heebie jeebies. He was a rough looking and rough acting man who seemed to prefer beating up thugs than indulging in meetings with the family. Maseo Yamashiro was another man who was close to Oliver and from what Thea had told her, had formerly been a part of the Chinese Triad before defecting to the Queen family. Felicity might have worried that he was a plant or a spy if not for how much Oliver obviously trusted him. Apparently, they'd grown close during the "war" that had lead to Oliver's exile to Russia.

Now, the mansion was empty. Silent. Moira was god knows where doing god knows what, Thea was at Verdant and Oliver and his… associates were down at the docks, hopefully intercepting the Chinese Triad. Felicity, meanwhile, was camped out in the media room, painting her toenails while an old episode of "Friends" played on Netflix queue. She also had a recent tech magazine spread open on the sofa next to her and she was reading an interesting article about some of the latest cyber security software and theories. In other words, she was enjoying a rare perfect evening in, all by herself.

She'd just finished the last coat on her last toe when she heard the front door bang open followed by the sound of raised voices. Forgetting the last coat of paint was still fresh, Felicity jumped to her feet and hurried out into the foyer. The doors were wide open and many rough men filled the room. And between John Diggle and Slade was…

"Oliver!" she cried, rushing forward.

They were supporting his weight between them and she saw the blood staining the side of his jacket. His head was drooping, resting on John's shoulder and she could see the sweat standing out on his brow.

"He's bleeding!" Felicity reached out to pull aside his suit jacket and saw his dress suit was completely soaked with blood. "Frak! Was he… is that a stab wound?"

John nodded grimly. "We intercepted the Triad just as planned but one of them had a knife hidden. Didn't see it till it was too late. He'd stuck Oliver before any of us knew what was happening."

Felicity swallowed hard. "And what happened to him, then?"

"Do you really want to know, princess?" Slade asked with a sneer. "Now do you mind? We'd like to get this lug laid down; he's not as light as he looks."

They pushed past her and into the media room she'd just run from. She hurried forward to clear the magazine and nail polishing detrius from the sofa cushions before they laid Oliver down on his back.

"Roy. Go fetch the med kit," Slade barked.

"The rest of you can go on home. I think we're set here for the night," John added.

The room cleared except for the four of them and Felicity turned on the men. "You aren't taking him to a hospital? He was _stabbed_."

"Exactly. We don't want any nosey doctors asking any questions. Remember, Oliver is supposed to be an upstanding businessman. Besides, this is an easy fix. We've dealt with worse in the past."

She didn't want to ask. Instead, she dropped to her knees next to Oliver's head as Roy brought in the med kit and handed it to John. He opened his eyes and saw her, but his gaze was hazy and unfocused. He lifted a hand as though he was reaching for her face and she automatically reached for it, clasping it between hers.

"I'm here, Oliver," she murmured, keeping her eyes averted from where Slade was cutting away the blood soaked shirt.

"'Licity…" he slurred.

"Shh. Just rest. John is…" She glanced over her shoulder and swallowed at the sight of the man in question gently cleaning the wound while Slade prepared a needle and thread. "John's taking care of it."

Oliver's eyes drifted shut again but she felt his fingers flex between hers. She squeezed back, wanting him to know she was here. She had every faith that Oliver was fine, that the guys could handle this and this was all just another Tuesday night for them. But it was _so much blood_ and she'd never dealt well with the sight of blood. Not even when she was a kid and would get skinned knees on the playground. And apparently, especially not now when the blood was that of her husband.

 _Shit_. Felicity was far too practical to ignore the tugging she felt in her heart at the thought of Oliver in danger and in pain. Her feelings were getting complicated despite her best efforts. Maybe it was a temporary thing. Maybe it was just the adrenaline from this near miss. Maybe it had something to do with that almost kiss.

She had to hope. She could _not_ fall in love with her husband.

Oliver woke up in his own bed. He felt foggy, his mind muddled and his vision took a moment to clear as he blinked open his eyes. The lamp on his bedside table was on, illuminating him and a small area around his bed. He turned his head and saw Felicity in a chair, her tablet in hand as she read something on it. A glass of water and a few tablets sat on the table. Beyond his bedroom curtains it was still dark, meaning he'd only been out for a few hours and not all night.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice gravelly. He tried to clear his throat.

Felicity's head snapped up. She dropped her tablet onto the seat and sat forward, grabbing the glass and reaching for him. "Here, have a drink. Your throat must be dry."

Her hand was cool on the back of his neck as she helped him sit up enough to sip at the cool water. When he was finished, he laid back down against the pillows, noticing the stiff soreness in his side where he'd been stabbed.

"Thanks," he said.

She smiled briefly but he was struck by how genuine her smile looked. "How's your pain? I have some pills here in case you need them."

"I'm fine for now," he assured her. "What— what are you doing here?"

Her brow wrinkled. "Do you remember the guys bringing you home?"

"Barely. I remember the ride in the SUV. I remember Dig practically carrying me out of the backseat."

"Mmm. Yes, he and Slade brought you in the house. I— er, held your hand while John stitched you back up. Then I followed them when they brought you up here to sleep it off. I offered to stay and keep an eye on you."

Oliver was struck. Never in a million years would he have expected her to hover over him. Why, before a couple weeks ago, she couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. They'd had that big argument in her room the night of the QC dinner party… the night he'd almost given in and kissed her.

His heart knocked in his chest at the memory. One minute, they'd been arguing and her eyes were like flinty sapphires, her color high on her cheeks. She'd looked especially magnificent with her hair still done up and wearing that fantastic dress. Oliver had been overwhelmed by all the emotion he'd been struggling to contain since their wedding day.

He'd wanted to kiss her so badly. He thought of that kiss at their wedding almost daily and somehow knowing just how soft and plush her lips were how well they fit molded against his made fighting the urge even harder. Then, he'd felt her relax in his grasp, as though she were giving herself over to it. That had reminded him of how he held her wrist, how he'd yanked her against him and horrified at his show of possessiveness, he'd released her and fled back to his room.

It wasn't even just how beautiful she'd looked. He hadn't wanted to admit to himself that he'd been damned impressed at the effortless way she'd wooed those investors. True to their word, each of them had signed contracts promising capital to help QC grow and expand which was exactly what Oliver had wanted all along. He couldn't deny that he owed a lot of that to _her._ Damn, it'd be so much easier to keep his distance from her if she wasn't such an appealing woman!

Ever since, he'd been very careful to keep his distance from her out of fear of a repeat performance. Oliver knew exactly what was going on and damned if he knew what to do about it. His feelings towards his wife were softening, growing, evolving. He realized that while he was still hesitant about getting his heart involved again, he was growing less and less interested in keeping his distance from his enigmatic wife. He wanted to get to know her better, learn what made her tick. Approaching her was the real trick though and he was unsure how to make that work.

So in the meantime, Oliver did what he always did best: he evaded the issue and her. And now she was sitting here at his bedside, all but mopping his feverish brow. _Christ_ , he was done for.

He managed a smile when she started to look concerned. "Thank you for staying with me."

"It wasn't a problem. I had my iPad to keep me busy," she replied, gesturing at the tablet and smiling sheepishly.

"I appreciate it." He debated asking her to stay. He wanted to ask her to crawl between the covers and lay next to him, just to have her near. But it was already late and she had to be exhausted and she'd stayed up so long as it was. "You can probably go on to bed now, though. I think I'll be fine."

Felicity blinked, her eyes big behind her glasses. "Are you sure? Because I don't mind—"

"I'm sure, Felicity." He smiled at her, to show that he was fine with it. "Go get some rest."

"As long as you promise to take a pain pill if you need to," she told him as she stood from the chair.

"I promise."

Felicity paused and reached out and he thought for a moment she was going to brush her hand over his forehead. She stopped herself, however, her hand lingering in midair before she smiled at him again, turning and walking to her bedroom door.

As soon as the door shut, Oliver let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. When he inhaled, he smelled the faint scent of her shampoo lingering in the air over him and he closed his eyes, savoring it.

 _Shit_. He was in deep. She'd stayed up by his side, just to make sure he was okay. That had to mean something, didn't it? Perhaps her feelings were thawing towards him as well. She may or may not feel the same attraction but perhaps she was interested in at least friendship.

Oliver let himself imagine a friendship with Felicity as he lay back against his pillows. How much easier would this whole marriage be for both of them if they could just be friends. He envisioned confiding in her about what was going on with him, listening to her thoughts and advice and offering her the same in return. He daydreamed about watching movies together on quiet nights where family business wasn't pressing in on him. He fantasized about vacations together, someplace hot and sandy and seductive…

As he drifted back to sleep, Oliver had a feeling that he would never be satisfied with _just_ friendship from Felicity.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Once again, everyone's support for this story is humbling and all the messages are a bright spot in my day. I'm really glad everyone likes this story, enjoys the direction I'm taking and is excited for updates! Hopefully, that will continue to be true. Now this chapter contains something I suspect many of you have been hoping for. No... not THAT. But still... something well deserved.**

 **And, as always, super sloppy smooches for mersayseh for helping me with a beta-read. Her encouragement means the world to me.**

Things were different in the weeks following Oliver's injury. Oliver was no longer hiding from her, limiting their time together. He was present at dinner each night and made a point to ask her about her day. What's more, he even seemed interested in her answer. Felicity had been surprised, but pleased, at the shift. The knot that had been a constant presence in her stomach ever since her life had been signed over to the Queen family was easing, slowly and bit by bit.

But she was also confused. Because with the lessening of that knot came the addition of a twinge in her chest. Every time Oliver did something sweet for her, be it pulling out her chair for her at the dinner table or bringing her home a bit of prototype tech from the R&D department at QC to play with, she felt a yearning. Felicity wasn't familiar with the sensation because while she'd had boyfriends in the past, she'd never felt this almost painful tightening when around those men. Oliver pulled out feelings in her that she'd never felt before. It was a little intimidating.

The worst part was Felicity didn't believe he intended to do it. Oliver was just being friendly. There'd been an unspoken truce between them since the night of his injury and it was likely that he was just trying to keep their relationship non-combative. She definitely appreciated that but she wished her heart would get the memo. Just because Oliver was being nice to her didn't mean he had any feelings towards her. He'd been very specific when they met that he had no intention of getting involved in any kind of romance with her. Felicity just needed to keep reminding herself of that.

It was just hard to remember when she watched him with his sister, teasing each other and acting like any normal siblings that love one another. It was even hard when she saw how he cared for his mother and looked after her when she couldn't notice. It was the hardest to remember when she saw him let down the walls he kept up and let everyone around him in. As if it wasn't enough that he was gorgeous to look at, he had to be secretly sweet underneath his gruff exterior too?

They were talking more now and he'd been asking her about her work at QC before they'd married. Felicity hadn't sugar coated it; she'd let Oliver know how much she missed her job there, her co-workers and her satisfaction of doing something she loved and working towards building her dream. Yes, one night over a tub of ice cream in the kitchen, she'd even told him about that.

Oliver hadn't said much, had just watched her and eaten spoon after spoon of melting mint chip ice cream as she told him about her former plans to build a lab and start her own tech company. Felicity had feared he might scoff at her old dreams, or even worse, laugh at them. But he hadn't. He hadn't said much at all, actually, besides asking her for details on her dream lab. It had been a silly, wishful evening, but it had felt good to share that, even if it was with him. Somehow, it felt like she was keeping her dream alive.

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon and Felicity was answering some emails on her laptop down in the media room. They hadn't needed her at the animal shelter that day, which had been a bit disappointing. She liked the time away from the house and she loved spending time with the animals.

Just then, Oliver strode into the room. Felicity looked up, surprised.

"Oliver! What are you doing here? It's the middle of the day!" she cried. "I thought you had meetings all this week."

"I did," he told her, walking over and sitting on the couch next to her. She placed the laptop on the coffee table and turned her attention towards him. "I have something to show you, the meetings were all about getting it set up."

"Really?" She glanced down at her outfit, a casual sundress. "Am I okay like this?"

His eyes traced over her and she caught a slight tick in his jaw before he smiled and nodded. "Yes, you look perfect."

He stood and extended a hand towards her. "Come on. I've been looking forward to showing you this."

She accepted his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He lead her down into the garage where the cars were all parked. There was the cherry red Mercedes that she'd been given to drive parked next to Oliver's collection of motorcycles. He ushered her to the passenger door of his sleek black Bentley Continental GT, however, opening the door for her and closing it after her once she'd settled herself inside.

He got behind the wheel and she tried not to notice how the whole car smelled like leather and _him_.

"Oh! I forgot my purse!" she cried.

He smiled at her, a dimple flashing in his cheek. "It's fine, Felicity. You won't need it."

The sports car roared to life and they shot out of the garage. Felicity grabbed onto the door, thrilled as they blew past trees and then other houses and buildings. She lost track of where they were headed after a while, caught up in the movement of the car. She wasn't generally one to be impressed by fancy vehicles but it was hard not to be impressed by this one.

After about five minutes, she found herself stroking the leather. Oliver caught her eye and grinned as he gunned the engine.

 _Showoff_.

A few minutes later, they were pulling up alongside a modern looking building. It was low, maybe four stories maximum with an abundance of glittering glass and sharp angles. There was a sign but it was empty and there was a "for sale" notice posted out front.

Felicity was still taking in the details when Oliver came around the hood of the car to open her door and help her out.

"What is this?" she asked.

"You'll see," he told her and while he exuded calm, she could detect a slight tremor in his voice. "It's a surprise."

He lead her up the steps and she was surprised when he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He held it open for her while she walked in.

"Is this one of QC's newest acquisitions?" she asked.

He nodded, standing next to her with his hands in his pockets while they both looked around the empty lobby. "Yes. Just signed the papers on it this morning. This is what I've been working on getting situated."

"Ahhh." Felicity realized this was him bringing her in on the business side of things a bit. He knew well enough how she felt about being forced out of her old job. Maybe he thought this would make up for it. While she'd rather have her old job back, being included in any way felt like a step in the right direction.

"So what is it?"

"Come. Let me show you."

He directed her to a wide, open staircase that lead to the second floor. She had to try not to gape at everything as they ascended. The layout was so open, bright, yet modern and sleek. There were plants and trees inside, bringing an organic feel to all the steel and glass and it made her fingers itch to fly across a keyboard. This place was _inspiring_. Oliver had chosen well.

"I love this building," Felicity murmured as he lead her to another open staircase.

He glanced back at her and grinned and her breath caught a little at the sight. Oliver was such an attractive man; she often lost sight of that amidst their situation. Then he'd smile like this, open and free and as though he didn't have the weight of the city on his shoulders, and he bowled her over with his beauty.

"Here we are," he announced, stopping at a large set of double doors. There was a security pad set up on the wall outside, for employees to scan in with their badges or what not but it apparently hadn't been set up yet. Whatever he was about to show her was something they would be keeping rather secure. Felicity felt a little thrill at the clandestine nature of all of this.

Oliver pushed open the doors and stepped in, flicking on the lights from the controls on the wall.

The fluorescents buzzed to life and Felicity blinked at what she saw before her. There were tables with all matter of technological paraphernalia set up atop them. There were boxes where computers were waiting to be installed. Her eyes zipped around, struggling to process everything she was seeing. The white boards, the projection equipment, the workstations…

Her mouth went dry.

"This is a research lab," she whispered. And not just any research lab. This was exactly what she'd had pictured in her mind all this time. Ever since her days at MIT, when she'd first gotten the idea to start her own tech company, this lab had featured in her dreams. It was as though Oliver had looked into her mind, seen everything she'd pictured, and then created it out of thin air.

"It is," he confirmed. She turned to find him standing behind her, his hands still in his pockets. He was watching her with an apprehensive look on his face, as though he wasn't quite sure how she was going to react. Truthfully, she didn't know how she was going to act either. She was still trying to process it all.

"Why are you showing me this, Oliver?"

He cleared his throat, clearly a nervous gesture, and took a step towards her. "Because. I bought it for you."

The tears that sprang to her eyes were instant as she whirled back to face the room. "For me?" Her voice croaked but she couldn't even bring herself to care as she stepped forward and slowly began to explore the room.

She spent ages just touching surfaces, scrutinizing the computers and their specifications, testing the various equipment. It was all perfect. For _her_? She couldn't get over it. Finally, she turned to look for Oliver, only to find him still standing in place, watching her.

This time, there was a small smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"This is mine? Like… I would get to work here?" she asked him, still unable to believe it.

"Felicity, I want you to _run_ it." Oliver stepped forward until he was right before her. He reached out for her hands, holding them in his. "I've always felt bad that my mother made you give up your job in the IT department. Your work is clearly important to you and I knew how much you dreamed of having a lab like this one day. I wanted to make that happen for you. It just so happens, those investors you helped me to woo agreed that QC needed to expand its Applied Sciences division."

Her mouth popped open. "Run it?" she squeaked.

His smile deepened. "Yes. There's no one better qualified, Felicity, before you start in on me about preferential treatment."

God damn, she loved that twinkle in his eye. "So all of this is mine and I would have… employees?"

"Yes. If you'd like, you can meet with me and some of the other heads of department at QC to help put together a search committee along with a list of potential candidates from inside the company already. All of this has been set up, Felicity. You just need to say yes."

As if she could say anything else! "Yes!" she shrieked, just before she launched herself at him. She didn't even think about it, she just did it.

Oliver caught her easily, his arms banding around her back as he lifted her off her feet. She buried her face in his shoulder, squeezing, wanting him to know just how much this meant to her. She was excited and overwhelmed and… emotional.

He held her while she tried to get a grip on herself, somehow knowing that she needed a moment to just hold on and collect herself. Then, slowly, he set her back down on her feet. He kept his arms around her, however, bending slightly to keep her nestled against him.

"I'm just… happy," she mumbled into the fabric of his suit jacket. She felt him relax, his hands tightening on her back.

"I'm glad," he replied quietly.

Felicity pulled herself away a moment later and wiped under her eyes for stray tears. "I don't know why I'm crying." She felt ridiculous and her cheeks heated at him seeing her react this way. When she dared to look up, he was watching her with a surprisingly warm expression.

"You'll be Director of Applied Sciences, if that's okay with you."

Her mind whirled, already jumping ahead to what needed to be done to get this place up and running. "When do I start?"

"As soon as you want."

"Tomorrow?"

He chuckled. "If you want."

Felicity couldn't fight her grin. "I'm just excited to get started on this. Oliver… I don't even know what to say to you. _Thank you_."

"It's what you deserve." There was a buzzing from his pocket and Oliver pulled his phone out and frowned at the display. "I've got to take this call. Keep looking around, check out the whole building if you want to. I'll be down in the lobby."

She nodded and he walked out of the lab, phone already held to his ear.

As she continued around the lab, inspecting equipment and peering into boxes and mentally planning what would be going where, Felicity couldn't quite get her mind off of her husband. He'd surprised her today. She knew things had been getting better between them lately and she was so grateful for the easing of that tension.

But a new tension was forming in its place. Oliver was being _sweet_ with her and that's not an adjective she would have ever used to describe him before. He'd been so insistent with her that he wasn't looking for anything beyond a marriage of convenience. Hell, the first time they'd met he'd underscored the fact that they didn't even have to speak outside of social situations.

So what was he doing? Did she even dare let her guard down and let her own feelings for him soften in return? It's not that she thought he was buying her affection with this lab. It was clear to her that he did it because he thought it would please her, that she'd be happier with her life married to him as a result.

Damn it all, it was working. Already, a cloud had been lifted and she was actually looking forward to something. She was excited to turn her dreams into something concrete.

It all added up to equal one undeniable truth: Oliver wasn't the bad guy she had perceived him to be. Maybe he could be a friend after all.

A little over a week after Oliver had given Felicity the Applied Sciences division, Tommy stopped by the mansion after dinner, grabbed him and pushed him into his Ferrari. Felicity had stood at the door and waved at them as they left, reminding Tommy to keep an eye on him. The teasing note in her voice stirred something in him. Shit, everything she did these days stirred something in him. It was becoming a real problem.

Apparently this problem was why he was being abducted tonight by his best friend.

"What's going on, Tommy?" he asked as the sports car sped past the front gates to the Queen mansion.

"You, my friend, needed to get out of the house. I haven't been able to get you to go out with me for weeks now. Then, just this afternoon, I asked you about going to a Rockets game with me tomorrow and you said, and I quote, 'I have to ask Felicity.'" Tommy glanced at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What the hell, man?"

Oliver winced. "I've been busy."

"With _Felicity_ , clearly," Tommy added drily. "What's going on? A few weeks ago, you could barely stand her. The last time I asked about her, the week after your wedding, you just about bit my head off for bringing her up."

He didn't know how to respond to that. "Tommy…"

"Does this mean you're taking my advice and making the best of a bad situation?"

Oliver didn't have to look over to know that he was waggling his eyebrows at him. "Did you drag me out just so you can drill me about Felicity?"

"No, I dragged you out so I wouldn't have to go drinking alone. Has it occurred to you that maybe I have some man-bonding I need to get done?"

 _Shit_. With everything going on at home, Oliver had neglected to ask Tommy how he was doing. He knew his friend had taken poorly to the separation between himself and Laurel Lance. "You're right. To the bar, my good man."

"That's more like it!"

Tommy took them by his place downtown first, to drop off the Ferrari. It was a smart move. If they ended up getting trashed that night, neither of them would want to leave that sports car in a lot all night long. They took a cab to one of their old favorite haunts, the Stumble Inn. It was a hole in the wall, basically, which was why they'd always liked it. They'd come there whenever they wanted to get away from the scene and just drink in private. That's what this bar was great for: drinking in private. The clientele, as far as Oliver could tell hadn't changed a bit in the two years since he'd last been here.

The two of them sat up at the bar and nursed matching pints of beer, whatever was on tap which was probably cheap and definitely was just one step up from horse piss.

It was great.

Oliver even remembered to ask about Laurel, which he figured he deserved some credit for. Especially since Tommy launched into a long and rather woeful explanation of how miserable the whole situation was for both of them.

"She doesn't like it either," he insisted to Oliver after taking a long slug of his beer. "I know she doesn't. I know she's just as upset about it as I am. But she will not go against her father on this. It's driving me crazy, Oliver."

"But can't you two just see each other on the sly? I mean, you're both nearly thirty years old."

"I know it! But she won't do it. Keeps telling me that she's all her dad's got left. After her sister died in that car wreck in college and then her mom left them both…" Tommy sighed and drained the rest of his pint, signaling the bartender for more.

Oliver felt bad for him, he really did. He could see how much Tommy loved Laurel, and how much this situation was eating him up inside. So he poured out platitudes to him for the next hour or so as they drank themselves further into inebriation. Slowly, he was able to distract him onto other topics until he couldn't even remember what they'd been discussing before. The upshot was, neither could Tommy.

"So now that I've poured my guts out," Tommy said, pausing to belch, "what's going on in your love life?"

Oliver snorted. He finished off beer #5. Or was that #6? He gestured to the bartender for another. "What love life? I'm a fucking _monk_."

"Well, okay, things aren't that way with the wife but what about… you know… extracurriculars?"

He couldn't fight the disgusted curl of his lip. "Ugh. Not interested. Not that the usual suspects seem to care."

"Usual suspects?" Tommy asked, raising a brow. "Wait, you're not telling me that Crazy Cutter is still sniffing around."

"She sure is. Comes by Queen Consolidated at least once a week, trying to get in to see me."

"Wow, that's persistence."

"She's a fucking loon."

"Now, now. That's hardly politically correct, Oliver." Tommy's tone was chastising but then he giggled into his beer and ruined the effect.

"So no, I'm not hooking up with anyone else. I don't need that kind of crazy in my life right now."

"No, what I'm hearing is you want _Felicity_ in your life right now."

"She is," Oliver insisted, not getting it. He took a drink when the bartender pushed another pint in front of him.

"I mean… in your _bed_."

He scoffed. "Where are you getting this?"

"I have eyes, don't I? I saw you both looking at each other when I picked you up. I could cut the sexual tension with a knife."

"Huh," Oliver grunted. "She doesn't think of me that way. Definitely not interested."

"You sure about that? I saw you guys at the wedding too and, well, chemistry doesn't lie, buddy."

"She hates me," he said mournfully, gazing into the amber depths of his glass. "Or she did, before I gave her Applied Sciences."

Tommy's eyebrows lifted. "You gave her a department?"

"Yeah. Actually…" Oliver paused a moment, remembering her smile and how she'd hugged him so tightly. "She seemed really happy about that."

"Oh, dude. You should see your face right now. I'm not entirely familiar with the 'lovesick puppy' expression but if I had to place money on it, I'd say that's what you look like."

"Yeah, well, it's no use. She could never love me back."

Tommy's hand landed on his shoulder in a comforting pat. "Cheer up, buddy. You're underestimating how you look. Sooner or later, she's gonna wanna tap that."

Oliver scowled. "I don't just want to 'tap that'. Besides, Felicity's not like that."

"I'm willing to bet you she is. And if she likes you, which it sounds like she already does thanks to your overzealous gift-giving, she won't be able to resist."

Yeah, well, he'd believe it when he saw it. As Oliver polished off his sixth (or was that seventh) beer, he didn't have much faith that Felicity would ever see him as more than just her grumpy friend and reluctant spouse.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Oliver comes home from his night out with Tommy a little bit drunk. Okay, he's a LOT drunk.**

 **I'm sorry the chapter is a little late this morning. I've had a rough one so far, guys. That said... I'm wanting to get this posted because its not fair to punish you guys because I'm in a down mood.**

 **Thanks so much to mersayseh for reading through this for me.**

Felicity and Thea were watching a romantic comedy together when the front door flew open. It was well after midnight and Felicity had given up waiting for Oliver to return home, assuming he would just be sleeping off his evening at Tommy's penthouse.

It had been an uneventful evening. Thea had pried Felicity away from her laptop where she'd been organizing notes for the upcoming meeting with the committee about Applied Sciences on Monday morning. After arguing with the younger Queen about whether or not doing "boring work" on a Friday was illegal, she finally gave in. She even let Thea pick the movie (which ended up being "Dirty Dancing". After that movie, they'd both agreed upon "Bridget Jones' Diary". And now, in the wee hours of the morning and high on soda and candy, they were giggling over "The Wedding Singer".

There were sounds of fumbling from the foyer that reminded Felicity rather unpleasantly of the night Oliver had been brought home with the stab wound. She was on her feet in seconds, rushing towards the door. Then, as she approached, Felicity heard the distinct sound of male laughter and shushing.

"What going on?" she asked as she stepped into the foyer.

Oliver had his arm slung around Tommy's shoulder but it was a tough call on who was holding the other upright. Both stopped their giggling and looked up when she entered. They gaped for a second before dissolving into further giggling.

"Are you guys drunk?" she asked, hardly able to believe it. Save for the night he'd been injured, Felicity had never seen Oliver in anything but the utmost control.

"No," Tommy said, drawing out the 'o' in an exaggerated fashion. Which just made both men collapse into giggles again.

"Oh, my god," Thea said, joining her in the foyer. "I haven't seen this in over two years."

"Thea!" Oliver cried out, grinning and lifting his arms to her.

"Not a chance, big brother." She turned to Felicity. "Sorry to leave you with him, but I'm escaping while I can. He's a pain in the ass to deal with when he's drunk. Good luck!"

Felicity watched, open mouthed, as Thea darted up the staircase, leaving her alone with the giggling men. "Coward!"

With Tommy's help, Felicity got Oliver upstairs and into his room. With her husband flopped back, still giggling, on his bed, she turned to his best friend.

"Do you need a room to stay the night in, Tommy?"

He grinned lopsidedly at her. "No, the cab's still out there waiting for me. I can't sleep in this mansion, gives me the heebie jeebies."

Felicity snorted. Yeah, she understood that sentiment. "You've kept him waiting out there quite a while now, you better hurry down and make sure he's still there."

"'Kay." Tommy headed for the door of Oliver's room, stumbling a bit as he turned in the doorway. "Sure you're okay with him?"

"Yeah, I've got this under control."

With a wink and a salute, Tommy Merlyn was gone. Felicity turned her attention to Oliver, who was still prone on the mattress, giggling intermittently at the canopy of his enormous bed.

"What am I going to do with you," she murmured to herself.

"I've got a couple ideas," Oliver replied, his voice slurred.

"I would have thought you'd know better than to go out and get drunk like this by now." She got to work on his shoes, untying the laces and pulling them off, letting them fall to the floor with loud thunks.

"I do know better." He sounded downright petulant.

"Could have fooled me." Felicity pulled him up by the hands until he was in a sitting position. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder as she worked his jacket off of shoulders.

"I'm much better now than I was, F'licity," he insisted. He lifted his head and gifted her with a sloppy grin as she yanked his shirt from his waistband. "Maybe even good enough for you to like me."

There was such a hopeful look in his eyes that she couldn't fight her answering smile. "Of course I like you, Oliver. I wasn't sure at first, you were kind of mean when I met you."

"I was an idiot." His head made contact with her shoulder again and he breathed out a big sigh.

"I won't deny that." She pushed gently on his shoulder and he fell backwards on to the mattress again. "I think you were just as nervous as I was. You've chilled out quite a bit since then." She began to work the buckle of his belt, fighting the flush that threatened to turn her face bright red. It was lucky he was drunk, he probably wouldn't notice.

"I don't feel very chill right now," he said.

Her fingers stilled. Surely, he didn't mean what she thought he meant by that? Quickly, she stood up. "I think you can handle the rest."

Oliver pushed up on his elbows and pouted at her. Yes, that was in fact a _pout_ on his face. "You're leaving?"

"I'm going to go get you some aspirin and a glass of water."

Felicity began to back away when he reached out suddenly and grabbed her hand, stilling her. She hadn't thought he'd have it in him to move so fast, so, surprised, she overcorrected her balance and ended up falling forward towards him. She twisted her body so that she landed on her ass on the bed next to him instead of sprawled out over the top of him.

Oliver's hand went around her head, cupping the back of her skull and he began to move towards her. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze for an instant, surprised by her fall and by his sudden nearness and affection. His lips were centimeters from hers when she pushed back against his chest. He drew back a little, pouting at her.

"Can't I have a kiss first?" Again, he had that hopeful look that she found so compelling.

"W—What?" She was so breathless. Why couldn't she catch her breath? "Why?"

He shrugged. "Because I'm drunk. Because you like me."

Felicity pushed back against his chest again and stood. "You're joking, Oliver. You're drunk."

"It's just a kiss. If you like me, you would want to kiss me."

Felicity knew she was blushing now. He didn't know what he was saying. He couldn't. It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him. It was that she was afraid she'd like it _too much_. And it wouldn't mean anything to him. Chances were, he'd wake up in the morning not even remembering it. Worst case scenario was he'd wake up regretting it.

She couldn't risk her heart.

"Tell you what," she said, trying not to notice how Oliver's hooded eyes were tracking her. "Let me go grab your aspirin and water and when I get back, you can kiss me."

His blue eyes lit up at that, making him look about ten years younger. "Promise?"

"I promise." She pointed at him. "Get undressed the rest of the way and get under the covers and I'll be right back."

Felicity hurried to her room before Oliver could change his mind. In her bathroom, she found a bottle of aspirin and a glass which she filled with water. It only took her a minute or two before she was walking back into Oliver's room.

She found him still sprawled on the bed. His shirt remained on and untucked, his pants had the button popped but remained on. And he was completely passed out.

Smiling fondly, Felicity set the water and pills on his night table for him to find when he woke up. Then, she eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. Should she let him just sleep in the clothes or…?

She hated sleeping in her clothes. As much as this might be embarrassing for him and for her, she _was_ his wife and technically this sort of thing would be expected. And who knows, maybe he'd appreciate her thoughtfulness. Vowing not to look at it too closely or think about what she was doing too much, Felicity set to work pulling his pants down his legs and then working his shirt up. Getting it off was a bit more difficult; she had to roll him a little to get his arms through the sleeves. As soon as she had him stripped down to his boxer briefs (and she was not looking, she was _not_ ), she rolled him over until she could get the blankets pulled down.

Okay, so his head wasn't technically on the pillow. But this would do for one night. He was as comfortable as he was going to get without the assistance of a forklift. Nodding with satisfaction, Felicity headed back to her room, intent on climbing into her own bed. She'd worry about the implications from tonight in the morning.

Oliver woke up to a beam of sunlight cutting across his eyes from a crack in his curtains. He winced as the light seemed to pierce right through his skull. _Jesus Christ_. It had been a long time since he'd had a decent hangover; he'd almost forgotten how much it sucked. Rolling over, he saw a bottle of aspirin on his bedside table next to a glass of water.

He stared at both items for a moment while a foggy memory nudged at the edge of his consciousness. He had a vision of Felicity, hovering over him. She was biting her lower lip like she did sometimes (it always drove him a little bit wild when she did). She was saying something about aspirin and water and she was promising something, something that he wanted very badly but he couldn't quite make out the words.

Pushing up on his elbows and trying to ignore the sharp throbbing in his head, Oliver regarded the items on his night table before reaching over. He popped a few aspirins in his mouth and then took a long gulp of the water. Groaning, he lay back down against the pillows.

He remembered going out drinking with Tommy. He remembered them brooding into their pints about the women in their lives. He remembered an awful lot of beer. Clearly, he'd made it home somehow and up into bed. The fact that he remembered Felicity told him that she'd probably been instrumental in getting him settled. A thought occurred to him suddenly and he pulled back the covers quickly to find himself in his boxer briefs. Oliver felt his cheeks warm at the thought of Felicity stripping him.

Maybe it wasn't her, maybe Tommy had done it. Though… Tommy had drank every bit as much as he had. Was he really capable of doing much more than stumbling into a cab and going home? What about his mother or Thea? His mother had been out last night, at a meeting with some of her friends. Thea had been here but he imagined the last thing she would have wanted to do was undress her big brother.

That left Felicity.

Oliver pushed out of bed and stumbled into his bathroom to relieve himself and splash some water on his face. Instead of getting a shower, he headed back to his bed, hoping to sleep off the headache until the aspirin kicked in. But as soon as he laid back down, his memory of the night before came back to him.

He'd tried to kiss her. Groaning, Oliver rubbed a hand over his face. He remembered her pushing him gently away, trying to get him to take off his clothes and lay down. She'd promised a kiss if he did that before she came back with the aspirin and water. Clearly, she'd returned but he must have passed out before she did. Regret filled him, and not just because he'd missed out on the promised kiss. No, he was pretty sure that had been just a ploy so that he'd release her and let her leave. If anything, Felicity had been greatly relieved to come back and find him asleep. Or at least she had been until she realized he hadn't gotten himself undressed.

He groaned again, wanting to pull the covers up over his head and hide the rest of the day.

Had he really just undone all the work he'd been doing, trying to gain Felicity's trust and friendship? Would she ever even want to be alone with him in the same room again? Oliver couldn't believe he'd acted like the same old drunken idiot he'd been two years ago. Felicity must think the worst of him now. What's more, she should think the worst of him.

As though on cue, there was a knocking at his bedroom door. Thinking it was Raisa with a breakfast plate and coffee or Thea to bug him about something, he called out for whoever it was to come in.

The door opened and he saw Felicity enter the room. She was dressed in one of her simple but elegant dresses, her hair pulled back in her customary ponytail. She looked fresh and bright, like a daisy from the gardens. Her eyes were wary and uncertain as she took in his condition and again he berated himself silently.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, walking over to his side and looking to the table where the bottle of aspirin sat.

"I took a few pills, drank the water," he told her. "I have a headache but it should be gone soon."

Felicity nodded, biting her lip. Oliver fought a groan. He really wished she'd stop doing that around him.

"Do you plan to make a habit of wandering home drunk?" she asked. He could tell she meant to keep her question light and teasing but there was a tension he detected in her voice that told another story.

"Definitely not," he assured her. There was a pause and he found himself picking at the ticking on his duvet. "I'm sorry for how I might have acted."

Felicity's cheeks turned pink and she glanced away. "You weren't too bad."

Oliver debated telling her that he remembered how he'd almost kissed her. But maybe she preferred to just let the whole thing drop. For once in his life, Oliver had no idea how to proceed with a woman and it was a very uncomfortable feeling for him. He decided, for now, to play it safe.

"I'm sorry if I was an ass," he said, keeping his tone purposefully light.

"You were fine," Felicity said, keeping her eyes averted from his. She was lying, of course. He knew it. She knew it. He wondered why she was holding back. A month ago, she would have laid into him, giving it to him with both barrels. He watched her curiously as she sat on the edge of his bed, nervously smoothing the skirt of her sundress.

"Actually I wanted to talk to you about something." She still wasn't meeting his eye and she looked about as nervous and uncertain as he'd ever seen her. "I got to thinking last night…"

She trailed off and Oliver pushed up until he was sitting against the headboard. "What about?"

"Dating." She met his eye at last and he saw a hard determination in her blue eyes that he was all too familiar with.

"Dating?" What on earth was she talking about?

"Yes. Your mother cautioned me about being discreet with any affairs and I'm sure she said something similar to you…"

Where was she going with this?

When he didn't speak, she continued, "It's just… I've noticed you haven't had any… er, anything going on since we were married. And I didn't want you to think that you had to keep that up. You know, out of fear of offending me or anything."

"Wait, are you saying you're concerned about my sex life?"

She licked at her lips, still looking uncertain. "Well, yes. I know your reputation, whether you feel it's warranted or not. I just want to be clear that I don't expect you to live like a monk. You can, you know, if you want."

Oliver took note of the blush on her cheeks, a lovely shade of pink that complimented her skin tone and made her look even more girlish. Then he considered what she was saying. And why she was saying it. "Felicity… what brought this on?"

She shrugged, standing up from where she sat. "I just thought that maybe you might be feeling… frustrated lately. I realized I should probably make it clear that I don't mind if you take a mistress."

Oliver felt his heart fall until it was somewhere around his navel. _Shit_. So Felicity thought he'd only tried to kiss her last night because he was feeling hard up lately. What's worse, she wanted to make sure that he didn't do it again. There was no way she felt the same way about him that he did about her. If she did, she wouldn't be encouraging him to find someone to sleep with to relieve his _frustrations_. Well, fuck that. He didn't want to sleep with just anyone. No, it was becoming increasingly clear that he wanted to sleep with _her_. His _wife_.

"Felicity," he growled, feeling his patience unraveling.

She backed away quickly, shooting him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I've got to get going, Oliver. I have plans with Thea to go shopping today. But I'll see you later, okay? I hope your headache gets better."

She was out of the room in a flash, before he could stop her. Oliver was left staring at the closed door to his room with a sense of dread and frustration like he hadn't ever felt before. If she didn't feel the same attraction to him…

But no, she _had_ to. Their kind of chemistry was a two way street and if he felt it, she had to have too. He saw the look in her eye that night in her room, he felt the way she responded to their kiss the day of the wedding. That was real and whatever she was doing right now was what was fake. Felicity was lying to herself, for whatever reason, and Oliver was determined to find out why. He was also determined to prove to her that their attraction wasn't just going to go away. That meant he was going to have to stick around home a lot more than he had been. She couldn't ignore him if he was always around, could she?

Oliver reclined into the pillows and began to think up all the ways he could to get under Felicity's skin. He grinned. This could actually end up being _fun_.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Oliver spends more time with Felicity, trying to win her over. Is he being too subtle? And who is this Carrie Cutter character anyhow?**

 **Hello everyone! Thank you for all your super kind notes yesterday. :) I'm glad you liked the chapter, that you're excited about this story and super into finding out where I'm going with this. This chapter acts as a bridge, of sorts. The next one after this is a doozy. But I think there's a lot of fun nuggets here for you to enjoy.**

 **As always, big thanks to mersayseh, without whom this story wouldn't be even close to finished.**

Later that evening, the family was gathered together for dinner. Family dinners weren't terribly common anymore; Thea was always busy with the club, Moira often had her own business and Oliver was putting in long hours at QC. Even Felicity was busy, getting the Applied Sciences lab up and running. But, once or twice a week, everyone would clear their schedules and meet in the dining room to eat together. As a family.

Felicity sat to his right and Oliver couldn't help but notice how she was studiously avoiding making eye contact with him. She and Thea were discussing some club business (apparently Thea was having difficulty setting up a network in her office there and needed Felicity's help) and that left Oliver available to be grilled by his mother about the Chinese Triad.

"Oliver, they are becoming more bold, targeting our shipments and the businesses we work with. We cannot allow that to stand," she was saying.

He bit back a grumble as he sipped at his water goblet. "I understand that, Mom. I'm taking care of it. Maseo is out there right now, talking to his sources and trying to gather intel."

"Intel about _what_? We know they plan to move against our shipment tonight, Oliver. If they are successful, other organizations will act out against us, too."

"Don't you think it's a good idea to know what their endgame in all of this is, rather than running out and reacting every time they lay the bait for us?" he countered.

"If you don't go out there and stop them, Oliver, you will make yourself and this family look weak. That's not what your father worked so hard to establish!"

"Fine, I'll take Slade and Dig with me tonight and go take care of it." There was no point in arguing with her, his mother always seemed to get her away, one way or another.

"Excuse me, but am I the only one who remembers that Oliver was _stabbed_ the last time he went out to deal with the Triad?"

Oliver swung his gaze to Felicity, who was glaring at his mother across the table. Her eyes were narrowed, her jaw set, annoyance radiated off her small frame. He hadn't realized she was listening to the conversation.

"It was just a flesh wound, Felicity, and the important thing is that Oliver makes the Queen family presence known."

"Were they or were they not expecting you last time, Oliver?" she asked him.

Oliver cleared his throat. "It did seem as though they were anticipating us being there."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to reschedule the shipment or add some guards to the rotation or something rather than just doing the same exact thing as last time? Unless, of course, you _want_ your son to be stabbed again."

Moira glared at Felicity and Oliver had to hide the smirk that threatened to pull at his lips. Once upon a time his mother had claimed she had a _docile_ woman for him to marry. Clearly, she'd gotten more than she bargained for with Felicity. The amazing thing he was coming to realize, of course, was that he appreciated that trait in his wife. She didn't just roll over or hide what she thought about things. She was outspoken and fearless and he knew that going toe to toe with his mother was something that would have most women shaking in their high heels.

"Of course, I don't want that. What would you suggest? We know the Triad plans to intercept our shipment at 11pm tonight. If you know a way to stop them and show our fortitude outside of Oliver going down there to oversee the situation, then I'd be happy to hear it."

"Why not move the shipment delivery back an hour? Surely, the boat can be contacted en route and be told to dock at midnight instead of 11pm. Then have a security team down at the docks waiting for the Triad when they show up. Have them be down there an hour early, at 10pm. Then _they_ can get the ambush on the Triad and maybe even make a few captures, find out where the information they're getting is coming from." Felicity took a sip of her wine as she finished. Moira looked more than a little shocked. Oliver felt… impressed.

"That's a good plan, actually," he told her. "Sure as hell makes a lot more strategic sense."

Felicity nodded. "And you wouldn't have to be down there, putting yourself in harms way. If they capture anyone, you can make your appearance then, with no risk to yourself."

"I like it," he declared. He looked to his mother who was starting to look as though she'd sucked on a lemon. "What do you think, Mom?"

"We can give it a try, see if it works," she replied with a sniff. Again, Oliver hid a smile behind his napkin as he wiped his mouth. His mother would never admit it in a million years, but he could tell that she was just as impressed as he was with Felicity's suggestion.

He glanced up in time to see Thea wink at Felicity and his wife wink back.

After dinner, Oliver had a quick meeting in his office there at the mansion with Slade and Diggle. A call was sent out to the boat to delay the shipment an hour and Diggle agreed to pull together a squad to be down at the docks when the Triad showed up to intercept. Oliver impressed upon them that he wanted a clear message to be sent but also that he wanted at least one Triad member to be apprehended for questioning. More would be better. They promised to keep him informed.

Which left him mostly free for the rest of the evening. He found Felicity in the media room, as per usual. She had a movie on but wasn't looking at it, absorbed instead with something on her tablet. She looked up and smiled at him as he entered.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, gesturing at the spot on the sofa next to her.

"It's all yours." He settled down next to her and she set her tablet aside. "Business all taken care of?"

"For now. Thanks to you."

She smiled at him and he realized it was the first time she'd done so since that awkward moment between them in his room that morning. He decided to count it as a victory.

"So, what are we watching?" he asked, gesturing at the movie screen.

"Avatar. James Cameron's Avatar, actually, not the terrible film adaptation of the Last Airbender. We don't speak of that…" She trailed off, noticing the way he was looking at her. "And you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Anyhow. Ever seen this one?"

He peered at the screen, at the blue creatures running across a technicolor landscape. "Definitely not. What's going on?"

She explained to him the basic plot as well as what he'd missed so far. It was a beautiful movie to watch and he found himself getting drawn into it. Felicity apparently had seen it many times, so it didn't require her full attention, but she did seem to enjoy watching him react to it for the first time. When he had questions about what was going on, she was always quick with a reply.

When the credits rolled, Felicity stretched out but made no move to get up. If anything, she pressed closer to his side and he could feel her warmth through the layers of their clothing.

"So, did you like it?" she asked.

"I did. I wouldn't mind seeing it from the beginning sometime."

"That can be arranged."

"My dad and I would watch movies, sometimes. Usually old war movies… those were his favorites. But I remember spending that time with him. It was nice," he reminisced.

She turned her head towards him and he tried not to notice how the movement extended the pale column of her neck. He definitely was trying not to think about what her skin might taste like, right there underneath her ear.

"I bet you miss him."

"I do. He was a good man. He might have had some… unorthodox methods but he loved his family. He always tried to do the right thing by us."

"I don't know much about how he died, just that it was a war between two families…" Her voice trailed off when he sucked in a breath. Even now, a year and a half later, his role in the war that lead to his father's death caused the guilt to cut through him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry…"

"It's okay, Felicity. It's not something I've talked about a lot, but maybe I should start. I still have so much guilt about how it all happened."

"Guilt? Why?"

"It was because of me that our family went to war with the Bertinellis in the first place. My father was put on the front lines because I was my usual, stupid self at the time."

"Oh, Oliver."

"I got there, just in time to watch the life fade from my father's eyes. I remember shaking him, begging with him to be okay, that I was sorry, that I was there now, ready to do what he needed. It was all my fault…"

A small hand landed on his arm, squeezing gently. He looked down, through the slight haze of tears that were starting to obscure his vision, and saw her bright blue fingernails contrasted against the dark grey of his shirt. He could feel her warmth touching him and took a deep, steadying breath.

"It's not your fault. We all make decisions, some good and some bad. What matters is what we do with what we learn from those decisions," she told him.

When she said it, it sounded so simple. "Would you believe me if I told you it was all over a girl?" He snorted to himself. "I don't know if I'm more horrified that I lost my father over a woman I didn't even love or by the fact that it took that happening to snap me out of stupid playboy attitude."

"Hey." Felicity's voice was soft but chiding. "You were young, you made a mistake. Like I said, it wasn't all your fault. There were grown people involved who made their own decisions. It's probably more likely that they took whatever it is you did and made it an excuse to do what they wanted to do all along anyhow."

He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her to his side in a quasi-hug. Ducking his head, he inhaled the scent of her hair before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "How do you always know the right thing to say?"

He felt her shoulder move as she shrugged. "I'm just gifted, I guess."

Oliver chuckled. "I think I'm lucky to have you."

"I think you are too."

Felicity headed down the street towards the front of the towering QC building, the place she used to call home back when she was just an IT grunt. She had a different perspective on the place now… Queen Consolidated wasn't just a means to an end for her anymore. It had come to start representing… family.

Speaking of which, she was hoping to surprise her husband and see if he'd join her for lunch in the park today. They'd been growing more and more friendly with one another lately and she thought that maybe he would appreciate the gesture from her.

And wasn't it interesting that the mention of family made her think about the Queens lately over her own family? She talked on the phone with her mother fairly frequently but she hadn't even spoken to her father since the wedding. So much for gratitude towards her for saving his ass.

She'd parked her car down the street at a lovely city park and had spotted several food vendors set up around there. Her plan was to grab Oliver and for them to walk to the park together, have a bite to eat under one of the trees there. It was a nice day after all. And Starling City had some of the best gourmet lunch trucks on the whole west coast.

Felicity was just starting to cross the street towards the front of the QC building when she saw Oliver. She quickened her steps, dodging an impatient cab. Right as she reached the curb, she noticed that Oliver was not alone. There was a sleek redhead tugging on his arm, smiling coyly up into his face. His back was to Felicity so she couldn't see what his expression looked like, but this woman looked anything but discouraged. Felicity felt her stomach plummet into her high heels.

The woman was beautiful; slender and petite and her hair was such a striking color… Felicity tried not to let the aesthetic comparison between this woman and herself get to her. But she'd been so looking forward to having lunch with Oliver, to surprising him, that her disappointment caused all the negative feelings to surface. Quickly, she ducked behind a tall planter so that neither of them would see her, though she thought she saw the woman's eyes narrow slightly when she looked in her direction before she got out of sight.

It didn't matter, she kept telling herself. Hadn't she just told Oliver over the weekend that he should feel free to date? How could she be upset if he'd listened to what she said and acted on it? As she'd told him, he was a grown man with healthy desires and there was no reason for him to deny himself that just because, on paper, they were married. It wasn't fair to him.

Still, there was no denying the disappointment that caused her heart to twist in her chest. She could probably spend all day going over and over it in her head. She could probably also drive herself a little crazy with it too. So rather than dwell on what her disappointment _meant_ , Felicity started to make her way discretely back towards the park where she'd left her car.

She wasn't hungry any longer and told herself she'd just grab something from the vending machine outside her office at Applied Sciences. Who needed all those extra calories anyhow?

That afternoon, while sitting at her desk, Felicity got a text on her phone from Oliver. Thea had asked the both of them to come to Verdant that night. Apparently, a new DJ was debuting that night and she was trying to promote the big name draw as much as possible. He asked her if she'd be interested in going with him to the club, put in a public appearance.

It'd be good for publicity, after all.

Felicity stared at the text for several long minutes. It took everything in her not to ask him why he didn't take his redheaded friend with him instead. That would be small of her, she didn't want to be that person. Plus, she knew that the public appearance stuff was as much for their supposed marriage as it was about promoting the club.

Finally, she responded with a simple affirmative.

 **Just tell me when to be ready.**

Oliver replied instantly, telling her that he thought they could leave the house at 9. She didn't bother to reply back.

Thanks to Thea, Felicity had the perfect dress to wear to the club. It was a lot more daring than what she normally would have worn but given her frustrating day, she was in the mood to let loose a little bit. Drink, dance, maybe find someone to flirt with.

Hey, what's good for the gander is good for the goose, right?

If he was going to date, she thought that she should probably do the same. It wouldn't do her good to sit around this house, drying up. Moira had mentioned she could have affairs as long as she kept it discrete so why not take advantage? It wasn't _really_ like cheating anyhow, considering she and Oliver weren't in love or anything of that sort. Maybe she'd thought she was falling for him a bit, but that was probably an overblown response to how sweet he'd been to her lately.

The dress she'd borrowed from Thea was glittery, clingy, black and so short that she worried what might happen should she bend over while wearing it. Despite coming to an abrupt halt towards the tops of her thighs, the rest of the front of the dress was downright modest. The sleeves extended to her elbows, the neckline was high and the fabric gathered in flattering folds above her breasts. The back of the dress, however, was downright nonexistent. The fabric connected under her nape but was cut away from there until just the small of her back, leaving her entire back exposed.

Well, one less undergarment she had to worry about. Felicity put her strapless bra away and instead dug out a pair of lacy thong underwear. As for jewelry… she looked at her meager collection thoughtfully. The dress had plenty of sparkle and didn't need much more. But maybe some glittery chandelier earrings would go well. She could keep her hair down, just sweep it over one shoulder. With a pair of sky-high stilettos, she'd be knocking them all dead. Or she'd end up with sore feet and legs at the end of the night. With any luck, she'd be too drunk to care or notice.

Felicity spent a little time on her makeup, giving her eyes a smokey, shadowed look before painting her lips a bright red. Then she stood back and looked herself over in the mirror, nodding. Yes, she looked like she was ready for action tonight, whatever that action might be.

And if a small, petty part of her couldn't wait to see what Oliver's reaction to her would be, well, no one could blame her, could they?

She was just stuffing a few things into her sequined clutch when her phone buzzed with a new text. She picked it up and peered at the screen. It was Oliver, of course.

 **It's 9 and I'm down in the car, waiting. Are you coming or not?**

Felicity grinned, anticipation humming through her, as she thumbed a quick reply.

 **Keep your pants on, Queen. I'll be down in a second.**

Then she tucked her phone into her bag and left her room.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Oliver and Felicity visit Thea's club and things don't go very well for their first major outing as a married couple.**

 **Firstly, I want to thank everyone for reading and following along and commenting and all of that. I apologize for not tagging updates on Tumblr, but hopefully you understand why I don't and will consider subscribing at Ao3 or instead. Secondly, I upped the rating as of this chapter. After discussing it with some writerly friends, I decided an Explicit rating was more appropriate for this story. This chapter sort of embodies why I made that change. So if reading those sorts of scenes bothers you or isn't your thing, you might want to pass over this chapter.**

 **Huge thanks to mersayseh and machawicket for looking over this chapter (and assuring me that YES it is in fact kinda sexy) (I NEVER CAN TELL).**

Oliver wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve this torment but he was, in fact, _extremely_ tormented. First, Felicity had come down to the Bentley wearing… well. He supposed it was a dress but it looked like sequined _sin_ , the way it clung to her curves and barely covered her ass. She'd just slid into the backseat and smiled blandly at him as though she wasn't trying to taunt him with her outfit. He'd forced his mouth to shut and tried to keep his eyes off her legs for the duration of the drive to the club.

He wasn't terribly successful in accomplishing that.

By the time they reached the club, Oliver's tailored suit trousers were uncomfortably tight and his jaw was starting to ache from all the clenching he was doing.

Then he had to watch her get out of the car ahead of him. _Holy fuck_. If he hadn't noticed that his wife had an amazing ass before (and he most definitely had), the message was received loud and clear now. As he followed her past the velvet rope and into the club, Oliver had a sinking feeling about how the rest of the night was going to go. Here was his wife, a gorgeous woman with an amazing body, wearing this completely mouth-watering dress, in a club filled with a bunch of hormone-fueled men and he had no actual claim on her outside of a ring on her finger.

And Oliver knew from personal experience, that ring wasn't going to count for a hell of a lot with this crowd.

Once inside, they were ushered by Oliver's bodyguards upstairs to the VIP section where Oliver promptly commandeered them a booth that overlooked the gyrating crowd on the dance floor. Drinks were ordered right away and Oliver fought an eyebrow raise when Felicity requested a tray of Patron shots.

Once the shots arrived, she promptly downed two before getting up and, without casting him so much as a backwards glance, headed down the stairs. Oliver watched, his scotch clutched in his tightening fingers, as she made her way to the dance floor and joined the bodies moving to the music.

The music was a loud, sultry beat and his eyes were glued to Felicity as she moved. Her hips swayed, her hands smoothing up the sides of her body before tangling in her hair. His throat went completely dry. He _could_ go down there and join her. Should he? Would she dance with him? Would she let him put his hands on her hips as she swiveled? Would she press her ass up against him, feeling where he was already hard for her?

Oliver was contemplating giving it a shot when he saw a man separate from the crowd and head right for Felicity. The guy's eyes were all over her, lingering obviously on her ass. A knowing smirk appeared on the douchebag's face and Oliver had a sudden, violent need to put his fist right through it.

As he watched, the guy put a hand on Felicity's hip and she turned, greeting him with an open smile. The hope Oliver had held that she would immediately rebuff this dipshit faded in an instant. He grit his teeth as the pair began to dance. Oliver drained his scotch before signaling the waitress and ordering a tray of vodka shots. As soon as she set them on the table in front of him, he knocked one back, savoring the burn.

That burn in his throat matched the growing burn in his chest as he watched the spectacle that his wife was in the center of. Not only was she dancing with this one loser, but she'd attracted the interest of several other fuckboys on the dance floor, who stood in a loose perimeter, watching her with hungry eyes.

He kept it up with the shots. The arguments in his head on why he shouldn't go down there and put a barbaric end to this nonsense were becoming more and more dim with each drink. The last straw was seeing this creep lean forward and press a kiss to the side of her neck. An angry, red haze obscured his vision and Oliver slammed his empty shot glass down onto the table so hard that it made the other empties jump and rattle. He was immediately on his feet and storming down the stairs, club-goers scattering before him like leaves on the wind.

Felicity didn't even notice him until he was right in front of her. Her eyes widened and her cheeks colored as she stopped dancing. The guy with his hands (and lips) all over her tried his best glare and Oliver stared him down.

"Back off, dude, I got here first," the guy said, his fingers clutching at her hip. Felicity just continued to gape at him, not saying a word. Irritation joined the fog of possessiveness that was currently swamping him.

"You're going to want to get your hands off her," Oliver growled. "Right now."

"Baby, is this guy making you nervous?" the asshole asked her. "If so, I can get rid of him for you."

Felicity finally found her voice. "He's— uh, he's…"

Oliver didn't give her a chance to finish. "I'm her husband. Once again, get your hands off my wife before I take them off for you."

His threat was clear and the guy's eyes got almost comically large as he released Felicity and stumbled backwards. The guy wisely didn't say another word and in another minute, was swallowed by the crowd. Everyone around them went back to dancing and Oliver turned to Felicity.

What he saw was a dirty look to end all dirty looks.

"What?" He had to shout slightly in order to be heard over the music.

"You are such an _ass_ , Oliver Queen!" She spun on her heel and stalked off the dance floor. Gritting his teeth again, he followed after her as she pushed out of the club and into the cool, evening air.

"Felicity!" She didn't even break stride. "Hey! Get back here!"

She stopped and whirled around at that. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were snapping with annoyance. "I don't have to do a damn thing you say, Oliver."

She continued on down the sidewalk and he hurried after her, reaching out and grabbing her by the elbow just as she reached the curb.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

"Home! Without _you_! I'm gonna get a cab."

"Like hell you are," he growled. Oliver whipped his phone out of his pocket and thumbed a quick text to the driver, asking him to meet them out in front of the club. It took a moment to send because Felicity was struggling to free her arm from his grasp.

"Let go of me, you neanderthal! God, why am I surprised that you would ruin a perfectly decent evening?"

Oliver shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention on her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The Bentley pulled up just then and the driver jumped out and rounded the hood to open the back door for them. Oliver clenched his fists as Felicity shot him another glare before getting in.

The ride back to the mansion was tense and silent. Felicity stared out the window, ignoring all his attempts to talk with her. He had no idea what had gotten into her. Hadn't they been growing closer? They hadn't had a fight before going to the club or anything. He had no idea what was causing her to act this way, beyond his display of jealousy at the club, and her stubborn refusal to talk with him right now about it was only ramping up his frustration.

"Are you going to ignore me the whole way home?" he finally asked her, letting his irritation show.

Felicity just continued to stare out the window.

"Fuck," he grumbled.

By the time they pulled up in front of the doors to the house, Oliver was good and pissed off. If she thought she was going to shut herself up in her room and leave this unfinished tonight, she had another thing coming. She leapt from the car before the driver could pull open her door and Oliver was quick to follow her.

"Felicity!"

She didn't even turn as she sailed through the front doors, her head held high. The staff member who held the doors open wisely kept her eyes averted as Oliver charged after his wife.

"Dammit, Felicity. You're going to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, Oliver."

She might not have turned around or stopped in her tracks but at least she was speaking. That was progress. Oliver quickened his pace as he followed her up the stairs, taking two at a time until he was right behind her.

"Tough shit, we're talking this out," he insisted.

"Just leave me alone, Oliver, I'm not in the mood." She sounded more tired now and they'd reached the landing that lead to the wing where their rooms were located. She stopped and turned to face him.

"I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what the fuck is the matter."

Now she gaped at him. "You don't know?"

"No! Jesus, you won't even talk to me!"

"Gimme a goddamn break, Oliver. You _know_ what you did!"

Oliver heard a noise down the hallway and saw one of the maids, studiously trying not to notice them or their argument. He narrowed his eyes as he turned back to Felicity. "I stopped my _wife_ from making a spectacle at my sister's club is what I did," he growled lowly.

Then, it was his turn to stalk away towards his room, leaving her behind. Judging from the aghast expression on her face, he was betting she'd follow after him.

Oliver wasn't disappointed; no sooner had he crossed half his room before Felicity swept in after him, slamming the door shut behind her. He turned towards her, shrugging out of his suit jacket and tossing it on the divan at the foot of his bed.

"I can't believe you're after _me_ about making a spectacle," she hissed at him, arms folded up under her breasts. "Given your history in that very club!"

"I wasn't _married_ then," he pointed out. Then, a horrible thought occurred to him, causing his stomach to roil. "Wait, is this why you suggested I was free to have a mistress? Is it because you want to have your own side-piece?"

Felicity's brow wrinkled and if he hadn't been so annoyed, he might have found the confused expression adorable. "How can you say that to me like you don't have your own side-piece already?"

Oliver stopped and his mouth fell open. "What the hell are you talking about, Felicity?"

Her cheeks colored and now he was truly confused. She looked down at the carpet before she answered. "I saw you with someone earlier today. At QC."

Oliver's mind reeled, trying to think back to what she might be talking about. "What? When were you at QC?"

Felicity huffed impatiently. "Around lunchtime. I was coming by to see if you wanted to grab some lunch at the park with me but I saw you out front with some… red-headed woman."

Oliver felt like he'd been hit between the eyes. _Shit_. She'd been there and seen him trying to get rid of Carrie Cutter. It was the third time so far this month she'd come to QC during the day, trying to get up into his office, cause some sort of disturbance. He knew her from before; they'd gone on one date together but he'd thought she was strangely obsessive and cut things off with her after that. Apparently, Carrie wasn't the sort that took no for an answer. While he hadn't much trouble with old girlfriends hanging around since he'd gotten married, she hadn't gotten the memo. Today, he'd met her down in front of the building and tried to talk some sense into her. He may as well have been talking to a fence post for all the good it did. When he'd gone back inside, she'd been just as moony-eyed for him as ever.

And Felicity had apparently witnessed that exchange and drawn the wrong conclusion. Which meant… what? That she was jealous? What else could it be if her first impulse was to go out tonight and dance with someone else? Or maybe do more?

There was an itching underneath his skin and Oliver dimly realized that it an urge to claim and possess. Did she feel that too? What the hell were they doing here?

"Felicity," he began, his voice a gasp as realization continued to roll over him. "No… I'm not. She's… someone I used to know who has been trying to see me but I don't…" Fuck, why couldn't he just get it out?

Her expression changed and she took a cautious step towards him. "You're not seeing her?"

"No, Felicity, _no_. I couldn't— I don't want… that. I want…" He clenched his jaw as she stopped directly in front of him. She was looking up at him from beneath her lashes and he wanted so badly to grab her and kiss her and make her feel one tenth of what he was feeling right this very second.

"What do you want, Oliver?" she asked in a whisper.

The words clawed at his throat, fighting to get out, to be heard. Felicity's eyes roamed his face, she looked almost frantic to see the answer there. Maybe it was the all the vodka he'd drank or the memory of seeing that guy's hands on her or just the way she was looking at him right now, but Oliver was tired of holding back and biding his time. Dammit, their time was _now_.

"You, Felicity," he told her in a low voice, reaching out and grabbing her arms. "I want you."

Felicity pushed up on her toes suddenly, her hands immediately going to the back of his head and pulling him down until her lips covered his. He was startled at first, not expecting her to make a move, but was quick to recover. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body flush against his as he responded, his lips gliding against hers.

As their tongues touched, Felicity gasped into his mouth and Oliver was eager to swallow the breathy sound. He could feel her heart pounding from where their chests were pressed together. She wanted this, she wanted _him_. That spurred him into action.

He backed her up against the bed post of his four poster bed. Dragging his lips from hers, Oliver knelt before her to remove her heels and kiss up her leg. He noticed her trembling and tried to hide a small smile as he nudged her legs apart. She complied right away and he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. He could smell her arousal, a spicy tang, and looked up to see her head fallen to the side, her chest heaving.

Oliver reached up under her dress, his palms smoothing over her thighs until he made contact with her lacy thong. He ran a fingertip along the edge, down between her legs to where she was already soaking the delicate fabric. As lovely as it was, as amazing as that scrap of lace looked on her body, it was in his way. With a hard yank, he tore the fabric away from her body, making her gasp, which made him grow harder.

He shoved the material of her dress up and over her hips until it was gathered at her waist, leaving her exposed to his gaze. Oliver stared at her, memorizing her curves and she shifted a little nervously under his scrutiny. She reached down to the top of his head, whether to push him away or draw him closer he couldn't tell. Her fingertips pushed through his short hair and he rather thought that felt like encouragement.

Oliver lifted her leg, hiking it over his shoulder. With one arm, he reached around her back, his palm wide on her ass as he drew her pelvis towards his waiting mouth. Without any prelude, he fastened his mouth to her slit, pressing his nose against her throbbing clit while stroking his tongue into her soaking entrance. Felicity cried out sharply and he thrilled at the sound of his name as it was torn from her throat.

 _Fuck_ , she tasted even better than she smelled. Her nectar coated his tongue and he lapped her up enthusiastically. Oliver had always fancied himself as a bit of a prodigy at eating women out, having perfected his technique back when he was supposed to be studying business in college. He was putting those skills to good use now, employing tongue and lips and teeth and nose and chin. Felicity seemed to appreciate those skills quite a bit. The breathy whines she was making were steadily increasing in volume and pitch.

It was time to pull out the big guns, he could tell by the way her thighs were shaking on either side of his face. Oliver brought up the hand that wasn't currently gripping Felicity's luscious ass and pressed a finger inside of her, feeling how her walls gripped him, sucked him in further. He bit back a groan as he redoubled his efforts on swirling his tongue around her clit. He added another finger as he concentrated on flicking at her clit. Felicity began to keen, a wild sound that he hoped half the mansion could hear. He wanted them to. He curled his fingers, brushing purposefully against that spongey spot inside of her and as he sucked her clit into his mouth, she came with a shout, her fingers grabbing at what she could of his hair and pulling _hard._ He didn't mind even a little bit.

Felicity's legs were still shaking so Oliver got to his feet and gently eased her back onto the bed. She sighed as she sunk into the bedding and he stretched out next to her while she came back to her senses, stroking her arm as he watched her face. She was absolutely gorgeous with her face flushed and her hair wild.

"What about you?" she asked after a few deep breathes.

"I don't want to presume…" he said and it came out a lot more coy than he'd intended. Luckily, Felicity didn't seem to mind. She got a sly look in her eye as she sat up and began to unbutton his shirt. He batted away her hands and took over, knowing he could get the job done in a fraction of the time. And he needed to fell her skin against his _yesterday_. Once he discarded the shirt, he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up over her head, dropping it somewhere next to the bed.

"What if I want you to presume?" Her hands smoothed over his chest while he drank in the sight of her bare, smooth skin before him. Her nails raked lightly over his muscles. He yanked her body against his, enjoying how her stiff nipples felt when pressed against his heated flesh. He need more, _much_ more. Quickly, he shucked his pants and boxers, lifting his hips and kicking away the fabric while she watched, grinning. Once all his clothes were gone, he sat back up, climbing onto his knees.

His attention went directly to her pert, supple breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth and stroking his tongue over the hardening tip. Her hands were in his hair again, but this time focusing on the back of his head, the nails biting into the back of his neck in a most delicious way. Felicity ground her hips down on his lap, causing his aching cock to slip through her slick folds. Oliver groaned loudly at the feel of that delicious friction.

 _Shit,_ he'd wanted to take his time with her, really work her up (and him in the process), but he was finding that he couldn't wait any longer. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I'll be right back, don't move a muscle." He didn't even wait for her reply before he jumped up from the bed and hurried into the bathroom where he kept his condoms. Oliver never brought women back to the house, and hadn't been with anyone since returning from Russia, but he always kept condoms in his bathroom for when he would go out. He checked the box, glad to see that they hadn't expired yet and grabbed a handful of condoms out. He carried them back to the bed and dumped all but one of them on the night table before turning his attention back to Felicity. She was leaning back on her elbows, watching him with a sexy little smirk on her lips. He tossed one of the condoms at her and she caught it, promptly tearing the package open.

Oliver remained standing next to the bed, watching her, his eyes tracing her curves, feeling his heart threaten to beat out of his chest.

"Are you sure, Felicity?"

The mild glare she gave him was very familiar. "Stop asking me stupid questions and get over here before I go to my room and let my vibrator finish the job." The vivid image of her doing just that lodged into his brain, causing his blood to heat and his already straining erection to pulse.

"Like hell you will," he growled. He climbed onto the bed and hovered over her. Felicity sat up, making him sit back on his heels while she reached for his cock. Her small, soft fingers wrapped around him, stroking a few times, rubbing her palm over the sensitive head and making him groan. He was about to stop her when she finally sheathed him with the condom.

Then it was his turn to push her back down. He leaned down and nipped at her neck. Felicity arched towards him, her nipples brushing his chest, making the most sinful noise he'd ever heard.

She was so responsive that it was making him even harder, even more desperate to be inside her. He'd never had sex like this before, _ever_. He'd never wanted a woman so badly before and it wasn't even just about the sex, but about holding her, about sharing this moment with her, about showing her how he felt. He knew he should be telling her this, but she was making those noises again and he knew he couldn't think until he was inside her. There would be time afterward for telling her all the things that were crowding his heart.

Oliver grabbed her hips and carefully began to push into her, trying desperately to take his time and not just shove all the way in like his nerves were screaming at him to do. She was so fucking tight and perfect. The sweat was already standing out on his brow. Felicity widened her legs, cradling his hips, as she carded her fingers through his short hair.

"Yes… ooohhh, yes… Oliver… oh, god…" she babbled, her back arched and her eyes screwed shut.

"Open your eyes, Felicity," he said with a grunt, stilling his hips with effort. "I need to see you."

She opened her eyes and he loved how their stormy blue depths were hazed with everything she was feeling, everything he was doing to her. He kept his eyes on hers as he continued to move into her. With one final push, his hips met hers. She gasped and he leaned down, swallowing the sound with his mouth. He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding alongside hers, moving in and out of her mouth until she was whimpering. He felt her relax underneath him and bring her feet up until they brushed at the backs of his thighs.

"Hold onto me tight, Felicity," he told her.

He began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before stroking back in. He kept the movements gliding and easy to start with, letting her get accustomed to his size and the intrusion into her body. When she started to moan, however, his control began to slip.

Oliver moved quicker, harder. Felicity's nails dug into his shoulders as she urged him on. He rested his weight on one elbow and reached down between their bodies to where they were joined. He felt for her clit and found it, a slick hard nub, which he began to rub in time with his thrusts. Felicity's moans grew louder and he could feel her walls fluttering around him as he plunged into her welcoming body.

He sped up, his hips snapping and his finger and thumb working her harder. She was on the edge and looked so gloriously wanton that Oliver wished he could hold onto this sight for the rest of his life, of her coming undone beneath him. But she needed release and so did he. So with one last press and pinch of her clit, he growled, "Come, Felicity."

She exploded, the wail coming from her mouth filling the room. It was easily the most erotic thing he'd ever heard and he suddenly knew he wanted to hear it over and over again. She cried his name as her hips jerked and then stilled beneath his, her inner walls gripping his cock so tightly that Oliver had to pause his thrusts and gasp. When she loosened up slightly, he pumped harder into her, fucking her through the rest of her orgasm before the tension knotting at the base of his spine finally released and he came hard. Her name was a litany on his lips as he fought to keep from collapsing over her. He kissed every inch of her skin that he could reach with his mouth. Once again, words that he hadn't spoken to her yet fought to be heard and he had to swallow them back down. Instead, he kissed her one more time, long and deep, before rolling to the side to catch his breath.

"Wow," she gasped.

Oliver chuckled. "Wow," he agreed. As soon as he could feel his legs again, he got up and went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he returned, a moment later, she was already curled under the blankets, her eyes closed. He knew she wasn't asleep yet but she didn't look too keen on moving. Suddenly, a warm snuggle sounded like the best thing in the world. Oliver climbed in behind her, pulling the covers over them both. He reached around her waist and pulled her back against him, until her bare ass rested against the tops of his thighs. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, through her hair and inhaled her unique, intoxicating scent.

He would have liked to talk with her before sleeping, make sure they were on the same page. No, she wasn't asleep as she squeezed his hand with hers, but he could tell she was sleepy and he was happy to hold her as she fell asleep in his arms.

As he lay there, listening to the steady sound of her breathing grow slower and heavier, Oliver started to worry. It wasn't an hour since she'd been furious with him. Things between them had been improving lately, but that didn't mean that Felicity was anywhere near the same page as he was. She'd drank quite a few shots of Patron at the club; maybe she'd been drunker than he thought she was. If so, she might wake up in the morning regretting all of this. As the insecurities crept in, Oliver tightened his arms around her.

He lay awake for quite a while after that, trying to soothe his mind and calm his racing heart. Before he was finally able to drift off, he decided to just play it by ear in the morning, see what Felicity's reaction was. Then, he'd go from there.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Oliver and Felicity deal with the repercussions of their night spent together.**

 **I'm amazed I was able to surprise so many of you with the sexytimes in yesterday's chapter! I thought I was being rather obvious that it was going to happen. I think I'll have to work harder in the future to prolong the UST. It's always been a weakness of mine. At any rate, thanks for the support you all continue to shower upon me.**

 **And thanks again to mersayseh for doing this for me. She's been my #1 mob au cheerleader!**

A soft rustling noise woke her the next morning. Felicity blinked open her eyes, squinting against the glare of sunlight streaming through the curtains. She pulled up a sheet to cover her face and realized the sheets were slate grey instead of the lavender she was expecting. As she pushed through the fogginess and dull pounding in her head, she realized she wasn't in her bed.

She was in Oliver's.

A sinking feeling swept over her at the same time that she realized she was completely naked under the slate grey sheets. A flash of memory played in her mind's eye: Oliver's head, buried between her thighs and her hand grabbing at his hair as he brought her to a shattering climax…

Oh, _shit_.

She and Oliver had sex last night. After the club, after his jealous display… She'd had a few drinks but had been far from drunk. No, instead she'd been drunk on _him_. Fucking hell. What did this mean? They'd been growing closer lately, that was true, but they were far from being on stable ground.

Felicity sat up, pulling the sheet around her chest, and reached for her glasses on the bedside table. They weren't there, of course, and that's when she blinked and realized she was still wearing her contacts. That explained the cloudiness of her eyesight, at least. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear them.

That's when she noticed Oliver, over by the closet. He was pulling on a henley and was already wearing jeans. His hair looked a little damp, as though he'd just gotten out of the shower. Was he trying to slip away before she woke? Should she let him?

What did _that_ mean?

She cleared her throat and Oliver's head whipped around towards her. He looked surprised to see her awake and she wondered if maybe he was disappointed that she was because now they had to confront what had happened. At that thought, something in her chest contracted, pulled away and erected a wall.

"You're awake," he said needlessly, walking over to the side of the bed.

"Yes, that tends to happen in the morning," she snarked back.

"Felicity, are you…?" he started to ask, a furrow on his brow.

She didn't want to hear the words, couldn't bear to hear it just then. "I'm fine," she snapped, a little more harshly than she should have. Oliver flinched visibly.

"I'm sorry I didn't wake you before it's just…" He paused to shrug and she swore he looked more uncomfortable than she'd ever seen him. "You looked so comfortable, sleeping there. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Oh."

He fidgeted and watched her closely, nearly as closely as she was watching him. Felicity couldn't figure out why he seemed so _nervous_. Wasn't this sort of scene old hat for him? Wasn't she just like all those others, last in a long line of affairs?

"What are your plans today?" he asked, his tone polite and curious and that made her want to crawl in on herself as much as anything else.

"Thea and I are having lunch," she replied.

"Oh." He looked almost disappointed and she had to bite back an apology. What did she have to be sorry for?

"What about you? Are you going somewhere?" she asked.

"I, uh, need to go… meet with some people."

 _Bullshit_. It was a Saturday. QC was closed for the weekend and even the mob was quiet on Saturday mornings if nothing major was going on. He was escaping. But instead of fighting him, she decided to let it go. Because she rather wanted to escape too but didn't want to have to do it while he was still standing there, watching her so carefully. Felicity pulled the sheet tighter around herself.

"Okay. I guess I'll see you later then," she replied and she prided herself on how calm and steady her voice sounded to her own ears.

She also took a perverse pleasure in the way his cheeks colored as he looked away from her. "I'll be back for dinner tonight. We'll talk then?" he suggested.

That would give her about ten hours to prepare. She'd probably need every minute.

"Sure." She fixed a fake smile on her face. "I'll see you then."

Her fake smile was returned. "Great."

As soon as he left the room, Felicity released the breath she'd been holding. She _wished_ she could blame this situation on the tequila she'd drank at the club, but she knew better. She'd been feeling emotional and then Oliver had behaved the way he had… like a jealous boyfriend or something. And when they got back here it was just so… _much_. Even at the time, she knew the sensible thing would be to put as much distance between them as possible, retreat to her room, and sleep off the hormones.

But instead, she'd kissed him. He'd told her he wanted her and she wanted him too and… she kissed him. Which lead to a lot of other really awesome stuff and she couldn't regret it. She _wouldn't_ regret it. Felicity didn't think she'd ever come that hard before in her life… _both_ times!

Still, the fact was that she'd promised herself on the day she'd come to the Queen Mansion and Oliver had given her his grandmother's ring that she would _not_ sleep with him. She had more self-respect than to let herself become another notch in his belt. If she was going to do this, sacrifice herself on the altar of arranged marriages, she was going to have a little dignity and that meant not letting the playboy seduce her.

The instant she thought it, Felicity felt a wave of remorse and she fell back onto the bed, pulling a pillow over her face. She didn't mean that. Whatever he'd been _before_ that had gotten him all that fame and notoriety, he wasn't that same careless boy anymore. So many people failed to notice that about him, failed to see how much he'd changed since the events that had lead to his exile to Russia. The Oliver Queen she knew was a quieter man, thoughtful, loyal… loving.

Felicity pulled the pillow away and took a deep breath. Loving. Yes, it was a good word to describe Oliver. She saw how he was with Thea and even with his mother, despite the way she often manipulated him. He was even loving with the extended members of the family, the men whom he worked with behind the scenes to protect his family's interests. There was genuine caring there and Oliver was nothing short of generous with his heart.

The real question was… Was he generous with his heart where _she_ was concerned?

With a huff, Felicity got up from the bed, sheet still wrapped around her, and headed towards the door separating their rooms. No, she was _not_ going to do that. She was absolutely not going to play the whole "he loves me, he loves me not" game regarding Oliver. She was better than that.

Still, she thought as she headed right for her en suite bathroom and the shower that awaited her there, there was something about the way Oliver acted last night. There was a look in his eye, there was the way he touched her, the way he wrapped himself around her after they'd spent themselves… Was it so unreasonable to hope that _maybe_ that was because he had feelings for her? And how could she get him to open up to her about it if he did?

Felicity snorted softly as she dropped the sheet and turned the taps in her shower on to extra hot. As she stepped under the spray, one question echoed inside of her mind:

 _Do you just want him to love you because you already are in love with him?_

Before he left the mansion, Oliver left instructions with Raisa about preparing a meal just for him and Felicity for that night. When he walked back into the mansion that evening, the house was quiet but he could make out the scent of Raisa's amazing beef stroganoff wafting gently through the foyer. He followed the scent to the dining room where Raisa was just setting out plates for them. She looked up with a smile as he entered.

"Mister Oliver! You're just in time!"

Oliver smiled back and crossed to his seat at the table before looking around. "Where is Felicity?"

"I sent Mina up to tell her dinner was ready. She has been up there since coming home from her lunch with Miss Thea earlier."

Oliver was anxious to see her, to talk with her. He'd played over and over in his mind the scene between them that morning. He wanted to believe that she was just feeling as nervous and unsure as he had been. They needed to talk; a conversation was long overdue.

A noise by the doorway drew him from his thoughts and he turned to see Felicity standing there. She wore a simple sundress, not unlike one of the many other dresses she'd worn since he'd known her. But he thought she looked beautiful. Her cheeks were pink as she regarded him, her hair curled past her shoulders in a loose, casually elegant style and her figure beckoned to him, even underneath the dress. Oliver swallowed thickly.

"Felicity. How was your lunch?"

She ducked her head as she crossed to her seat at the table. Oliver hurried to pull the chair out for her. She sat with a softly murmured thanks.

"It was nice. Thea took me to a new bistro down by the river."

"I think I know the one."

There was silence as they each took turns dishing out food onto their plates. Maybe she was waiting for him to bring up the subject of their night together? He was just struggling for how to get started when Felicity finally spoke.

"I just want you to know that I think it's okay that we both had a lapse last night."

Oliver looked up from his plate to find her watching him with a mild expression. Felicity, as usual, looked calm and unflappable. "A lapse?" he questioned.

She shrugged one of her smooth shoulders. "I wouldn't want something we did in the heat of the moment after a night of drinking to interfere with the friendship we've been building."

Oliver's heart sunk to somewhere around his knees and he took a sip of wine to hide his reaction. She thought last night was a _mistake_. Well, that was all the answer he needed, right? She clearly didn't feel the same way about him as he did about her.

Honestly, it was lucky that she'd been the first one to bring it up. If he'd started talking, he might have foolishly blurted out how he felt about her. Then she would have been in the awkward position of letting him down easy, explaining how she didn't feel the same. Oliver felt something in his chest twist painfully.

"Don't you agree?" she asked. Steeling himself, he met her eye. She looked a little less sure than she had when she'd first sat down. He had two choices here: he could protest what she'd just said, tell her that it wasn't a lapse or a mistake or anything like that. He could tell her that he was already head over heels in love with her and that he ached with it, that last night had been the fulfillment of weeks and weeks of longing on his part and how he wanted to do it all over again. As soon as possible, in fact.

 _Shit_. He couldn't do that. She was already trapped into this ridiculous marriage because of his family and his mother's Machiavellian machinations. He wouldn't make the situation worse for her by imposing his feelings when she clearly didn't feel the same way.

So, Oliver pasted on his best smile. "I do," he told her. "Your friendship is very important to me."

Felicity visibly relaxed and he knew he'd made the right choice. He reminded himself that her happiness was much more important than the wholeness of his own heart.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that, Oliver. I don't want things to be awkward between us. We've already come so far."

That he did agree with. He nodded. "They won't be. I promise."

Two weeks later, Oliver sat back in his chair at his desk on the top floor of Queen Consolidated. He'd just dismissed Slade, Roy and Maseo from yet another impromptu meeting about family business. He hated to deal with that during normal business hours and in his office, no less. But it couldn't be avoided. The situation with the Triad had gotten worse and Oliver was more convinced than ever that there was someone sharing information with China White and her men about the Queen family's plans.

So far, no one within the family was implicated, but it had to be someone fairly close to the family who would have motivation to try to undermine them. There was an issue with tracking down communications and he knew that if he asked Felicity that she would be more than happy to help him out in that department. He also knew that she'd be able to crack through the firewalls and encryption that had been stymieing them so far in a heartbeat. But he did not want to draw her into family business any more than she already had been. It was dangerous enough for her just being married to him.

Still, they were getting close to figuring out who the informant was and for that, Oliver was glad. He was still interested in moving the family into the legitimate business that Queen Consolidated could bring to them in the future. With Felicity's work at Applied Sciences, stock prices were already on the rise and the board was very happy.

Now, it was nearly 5 o'clock and Oliver was due at home for dinner with the family shortly. Plus, he and Felicity had plans to watch a DVD with Thea tonight. It was "The Princess Bride" and Felicity had been talking it up for the last couple of days. She was so excited to introduce this movie to the both of them that Oliver found he was excited too.

The only thing that helped ease the sting of having to suppress his feelings was spending time with Felicity. Though he couldn't say that things between them were just like it'd been before that night. Whether either of them wanted to admit it or not, there was a palpable layer of tension between them. Generally, the tension wasn't exactly bad. It didn't keep them apart or make things uncomfortable, per se. It just added… awareness. Oliver would catch her sneaking glances at him and he did his own fair share of looking as well.

Okay, so it did make the long nights, alone in his bed, a little more difficult to bear. Oliver had never really experienced that before. In the past, if he was in the mood to fuck, he'd call up any one of about a dozen women and they would come running to wherever he wanted to meet him. Now, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted one specific woman and he could not have her.

Still, he was a smart, resourceful guy. He was able to win Felicity's friendship, surely he could win her heart if he kept at it. Maybe he could talk with Thea about it, see if she had any suggestions for things that might woo more than just platonic feelings from his wife.

Oliver was just mulling this over when the executive elevator outside his office dinged. He looked up, surprised, and met the eye of his executive assistant, Gerry, through the glass that separated their offices. Gerry was already on his feet, set to intercept when a red-headed woman hurried towards Oliver's office directly.

 _Shit!_ It was Carrie Cutter. Again!

Oliver stood up and strode to the doors to his office, blocking her access.

"Carrie, what are you doing here?" he asked her, his voice hard.

"I came to see _you_ , lover," she said with a pout. Oliver met Gerry's eye over her shoulder and the other man quickly averted his eyes. He grit his teeth.

"I am _not_ your lover," he corrected her. "I told you just last week, _and_ the week before that and the week before _that_ that I didn't want you coming around here anymore."

She reached out to run a finger down his tie. Oliver intercepted her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist before throwing her hand away from him.

"Don't be that way, Ollie. Gosh, you're so _tense_. You need someone to work out all those… kinks." The suggestion in her voice was practically dripping onto the marble floors. Oliver prayed for patience.

"Do you need me to call security, Mr. Queen?" Gerry asked.

He probably should but at the same time, he didn't think Carrie was that much of a threat. She was just an annoyance. A really, really persistent annoyance. Security might be overkill.

"I'll take care of it, Gerry. Why don't you head on out?"

"Will do, Mr. Queen."

He watched Gerry quickly shut down his computer, gather his things and leave. Carrie remained where she was, gazing up at him with a dopey expression that was grating on his nerves. As soon as Gerry was gone, Oliver dropped all pretenses of formality.

"Carrie, this has to stop," he told her harshly. "I've tried to be gentle but you don't respond to that. I want you to stay away from this building and stay away from me. I will be leaving your picture and description with the desk down below with orders to remove you should you ever return."

She blinked at him. "Oliver, what's gotten into you? Are you having a crabby day?"

"I'm _not_ having a crabby day—"

"It's because of that 'wife' of yours, isn't it?" She scoffed lightly. "I understand why you had to marry her, appearances and all. But I also know a girl like that isn't your type. You need someone more… aggressive." Carrie growled at him as she pressed herself up against him.

Oliver pushed her away. "Enough! Now if you don't leave right this minute, I will escort you down myself and I promise I won't be gentle."

Her eyes flashed. "Oooh, that sounds promising," she purred.

"Carrie…"

"Oh, I get it. This is about the wife, isn't it? Can't get caught with your pants down I bet." She reached down for the front of his trousers and again, he grabbed her hand and threw it aside. "You know, if you want, I could have her 'taken care of'. Then we'd be free to be together."

"Wait… what did you just say?" Oliver knew he couldn't have heard her right. There was no way Carrie would threaten Felicity like that, right?

"It'd be easy. I've done it before," she revealed. "I can make it look like a mugging, while she's out getting her nails done. Just say the word, lover, and it's done."

Oliver saw red, which was preferable to giving into the white hot panic that wanted to press in. This bitch was serious. She'd done it before? How hadn't he known about that. "Don't you ever dare to threaten my wife again," he growled. "If you so much as look at her, I swear to God—" He stopped himself, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his rage. _Fuck_ , his hands were shaking. If she didn't leave in five seconds, Oliver didn't know what he was going to do.

Carrie just smirked, completely unaware (or uncaring which was a far more horrifying thought) of the danger she had just courted. "Why don't you take a day or two to think about my offer, okay? I'll see you later, _lover_."

She turned and headed back to the elevators while Oliver remained stock still, rage still pounding through his veins. The second he heard the elevator ding, he rushed back over to his desk and picked up the phone. He called the front desk, asked them to make sure she left the building and never returned. Then, he sat down hard in his desk chair. His hands were still shaking as he wiped them over his face.

He reassured himself that his security far outmatched anything Carrie could throw at him. He was aware of a threat now, which meant that there was no way that Carrie would ever be able to take him by surprise. The truth was, however, that there were much more dangerous threats besides Carrie Cutter out there. Oliver, being the Queen family scion, had more than his fair share of enemies and people looking for opportunities to knock him down. Felicity was in jeopardy, just by virtue of sharing his last name. The only real way to protect her at this point would be to beef up her security and to scale back their public interaction. Perhaps if his enemies didn't think she was a weakness of his, they would overlook her. Might not be a bad idea for him to take that stance with Thea too, now that he was thinking about it.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver drew out his phone and punched #2 on the speed dial. A moment later, a voice answered.

"Dig. I'm leaving, can you make sure the car is ready?" He waited for the affirmative before continuing. "Excellent. I'll be down in a minute. Also, I need to reassign you. Find someone else to guard me if you must but from here on out, I want you on Felicity's detail."

He stood up and made sure he'd shut everything down before striding to the elevators. "Yes, you heard me. I'll explain everything in the car on the way home. The bottom line is; I trust you the most, Dig, and I trust you to keep her safe."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Oliver's reaction to Carrie's threats, to pull away from her, has generated some hurt feelings for Felicity. She doesn't know about the threat or that Oliver is considering dissolving their marriage in order to protect her.**

 **Sorry to have killed you all with the angst last chapter. I have my reasons, namely that the story isn't over yet. Can't have a happy ending until the end, right? Just think of it like season 3 of Arrow. It's all steps along the path. In this chapter, I will further try your patience and for that, I apologize. The good news is that we're getting down to the wire here and it's pedal to the metal from here into the finish!**

 **Super big smooches to my lovely beta, mersayseh.**

At first, after their one night together and the agreement to not let it ruin their friendship, Felicity thought everything between her and Oliver would be fine. Sure, there were the loaded glances and undeniable sexual tension that lingered between them but Felicity could understand and explain that away in her mind. The point was, they remained friendly and while she'd been disappointed initially, she had hope that they could salvage some civility.

For two weeks, things had been damn civil. But then, one night, he'd returned home, had dinner with the family and then retreated into his office or his room or the home gym or somewhere else. He'd blown off the movie night she'd been planning with him and Thea entirely, no excuses made, no apologies given.

Since then, she'd been frozen out. Even worse, so had Thea. Oliver wouldn't hardly give either of them the time of day. It'd been another two weeks since then and Felicity could count on one hand the number of times they'd actually exchanged words and each of those times had been at the house, in private.

It hurt. Felicity wasn't interested in lying to herself and she wasn't going to pretend that Oliver's new attitude wasn't scratching at a wound that hadn't quite healed yet. She'd hoped, rather irrationally, that Oliver would have fought her that night they shared Raisa's beef stroganoff together. When she'd called their night together a lapse, a part of her had wished that he'd say it wasn't like that for him. All afternoon, she'd daydreamed about him making some grand romantic declaration.

The very thought was utterly foolish now, given the 180 degree turn he'd made. Besides, at best, he went along with what she suggested they do which told her that even if he did have feelings for her, they weren't strong enough for him to take a stand on.

How depressing was _that_ thought?

If her feelings were damaged as a result, then… then that was on her for letting her guard down. She would have to be careful not to let that happen again.

One nice difference, however, was she now had a bodyguard. Not that having a bodyguard was nice, of course, it was _who_. She had been assigned Oliver's bodyguard. John Diggle now followed her to the office and anywhere else she went. While she was in the building, he generally gave her space, the same thing when she was at home. However, when out in public, he was a constant shadow. It was a lucky thing that Felicity liked Diggle and got along with him. Still, sometimes it was a bit creepy.

Thea hadn't been spared this treatment either, as she now had Roy Harper tailing her around wherever she went. Unlike Felicity, Thea was a bit more vocal in her protests about this new development. Whenever Oliver was around, Thea would beg him to call Roy off but Oliver was immovable on the subject. Felicity simply wanted to know _why,_ but he wasn't talking about that either.

This week, Felicity had taken to throwing herself anew into her work at Applied Sciences. She didn't get as much time in the lab as she would have liked. It turned out that running the division required a ridiculous amount of desk work. She was always busy with paperwork, conference calls, meeting with other QC heads and overseeing the management of the entire division.

But the last day or two, the sun had begun to shine on her shoulders and she'd been able to spend a few hours each day down in the lab with the researchers. Felicity was confident she'd found the best researchers on the planet. Not only were they all wickedly smart and accomplished people, every one of them, but they were also a fun group. Just last night, the group of them had gone out for drinks together after work. They'd all made arrangements to go to lunch together today and Felicity had been looking forward to it all morning long.

She pushed through the doors in the lab and found her newfound friends all hard at work, bent over their workstations. Barry Allen, a gangly and delightfully nerdy guy was working on some reverse engineering. Prim and proper Caitlin Snow was working with him on that, recording the results into the workstation computer. Cisco Ramone, who always made her laugh with his quips and pop culture references, was coding a new piece of software and sucking on a slushed drink as he did so, surely turning his mouth blue. Ray Palmer, tall and gorgeous, was testing an experimental bit of hardware over at the far end of the lab.

"Hello, gang!" she called out. "Who's ready for lunch?"

They each looked up and smiled at her greeting. Cisco waved a hand in the air before turning his attention back to the workstation. Caitlin and Barry exchanged a look.

"What?" Felicity asked suspiciously.

"We're pretty swamped today, actually," Caitlin said delicately. "I'm sorry, Felicity. I thought we would have more headway on this by lunchtime but its been one of those mornings."

"Same here," Cisco piped up. "If I want to get this done by deadline, I'm going to have to eat at my desk for the rest of the week."

"Oh…" Felicity's heart fell a little bit, disappointed.

"I'm available," Ray supplied. He set the hardware he'd been working on aside and crossed the lab towards her. "I was here late all last week so I'm all caught up."

"And to think that we gave you a hard time for backing out of karaoke night at the time," Barry moaned, running a hand through his hair and causing it to stand on end.

Felicity smiled. "Well, I'll have you know the boss does appreciate your commitment to your work."

"Yeah, yeah," Cisco grumbled. "Bring us back some french fries, would you?"

Ray chuckled and smiled fondly at her. "Looks like it's just you and me then?"

"Looks like. Lets go before they start placing drink orders too."

There was a trendy burger joint just down the street. In Felicity's opinion, it wasn't nearly as good as Big Belly Burger in the Glades, but it was within walking distance to the office and they did have decent fries. The lunch rush was just getting going so they were able to snag one of the last tables by the window. Diggle got his own table one over from theirs and sat there looking menacing while Felicity tried to pretend she didn't know who he was. It was one thing if he sat with them but he deliberately set himself apart which made her feel odd about the whole thing. She tried to put it out of her mind, holding the table while Ray got in line to order their burgers from the counter.

Before long they had their burgers (his was an Atomic Cheeseburger with avocado and bacon; hers was a Buffalo Burger with extra pickles and onions, both on whole grain buns baked right on site), drinks and an order of fries to share as well as a couple more in a sack to bring back to the lab. Ray told her all about what he'd been working on and she glossed over some of the boring administrative work she'd been stuck doing all morning. But eventually, the conversation turned more personal.

"This was nice, Felicity," he said, his smile warm and genuine. "I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime."

"Me either," she was quick to reply. But then… Felicity wondered if Ray had intentions beyond the platonic. "I mean… as friends. I enjoy hanging out as friends."

Ray's smile widened. "It's okay, Felicity. I know you're married. The whole _city_ knows you're married and to whom."

She blushed, ducking her head to try to hide it. After taking a breath, she lifted her head and smiled at Ray apologetically. "Sorry. I keep forgetting that part. It's just that even though—" She caught herself before she could reveal the farcical nature of her marriage with Oliver. Ray didn't need to know that and it didn't really even matter that their marriage was a sham. Felicity had realized after the night that she had sex with Oliver that she had no real intention of sleeping with anyone else. Maybe in five years when the loneliness got bad enough…

No, better not to think about that. That was too depressing.

Ray misinterpreted her sudden quiet and reached over the table to lay a comforting hand over hers. "I understand. Sometimes, I forget that I'm not still engaged. I catch myself telling people that I'm in a relationship when it's just not true."

Felicity blinked. Had she missed something in Ray's personnel file when she hired him? "What do you mean? What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My fiancé, Anna. She died last spring in a car crash. It was very sudden, very traumatic. For me, not for her, obviously." Ray's eyes were downcast and she could tell by the way his shoulders had stiffened that this subject was difficult for him. It was her turn to flip their hands so hers rested atop his, offering him comfort. "She'd been so excited about the wedding. One minute she was talking to me about flowers, the next minute our car was flipped down a ravine. Drunk driver. She was killed instantly. I… got away okay. Just a broken leg, sprained wrist."

"Oh, Ray. I'm so sorry."

"I miss her every day, Felicity. I don't know when I'll ever be ready to date again. But… having friends helps." He smiled at her then and she smiled back.

"That's good. I'm happy to be one of those friends for you. Honestly, I'm glad to have made friends with all of you in the lab. We will definitely be doing this more often," she promised.

They stood up from the table and Felicity gave him a quick hug, holding him tight. "Anna would be happy that you're living your life," she whispered in his ear.

She felt him exhale and his arms tightened around her. "Thank you. I know she would be."

"Carrie, I've told you to leave me alone," Oliver said, his voice low and dangerous. She'd cornered him in the parking garage. Figures, on the one day he didn't have security detail. Diggle was now watching Felicity and Oliver's last bodyguard, Rob, hadn't quite worked out. Diggle was looking for a suitable replacement but in the meantime, that left him open. Which Oliver hadn't really minded because he was just going from home to work and then back home again.

Of course, he'd been shortsighted and not realized that his fucking stalker would hunt him down in the parking garage after work.

"But I have something you might want to see," she simpered, holding out a manilla envelope towards him.

"I'm not taking that from you."

"Even if it's something I _know_ you want to see? About your dear wifey-poo?" Carrie fluttered her lashes at him coyly.

Oliver glared as he took the envelope from her and peered inside. There were photographs. His heart started to hammer as he pulled them out to have a look. A zoomed in photograph of Felicity came into view, clearly taken at a local eatery of some kind, some place she would have had lunch at. She was wearing the dress he knew she'd worn to work that morning. She was also hugging a tall, attractive dark haired man. Oliver clenched his jaw.

"Where did you get these?"

"I have my ways, lover." Her fingers trailed along his arm and he shook her touch away.

"Tell me how you got these," he growled, tearing his eyes away from the rest of the photographs which showed her having lunch with this man, leveling her with his best threatening stare.

"A camera, silly."

"You're following my wife?"

"I didn't go near her, just watched. Observed. Saw her having this lovely lunch with this beautiful man." Carrie shrugged a shoulder, tossing her red hair back carelessly. "Thought you might want to see."

"Why the hell would I want to see this?" Oliver couldn't deny that the images irritated him. Whoever this guy was— possibly someone from Applied Sciences— he knew there was a logical and innocent explanation for Felicity having lunch with him. Not that it even mattered because they'd both agreed to remain friends and he'd backed away from her. And yet… Oliver felt a pulse of jealousy as he shoved the photos back into the envelope.

"I wanted to show you that your wife is happy. You could be happy too. We could be happy together," Carrie insisted. "If you'd just let me get rid of her for you—"

"Enough!" he roared. His hand was raised but he resisted the base urge that clawed at him to strike her. Violence would solve nothing. "I never should have let you show me those."

He pushed past her to open the door of his Porsche. Carrie sputtered behind him.

"But, Oliver! Don't you see?"

"I see that you're a fucking lunatic. I won't let you near my wife." He slammed the car door and started the engines. He didn't even look to see if she was clear before he backed out of the spot and peeled away.

Anger coursed through him. He steered through the streets of Starling automatically, headed towards home. His thoughts, however, were zeroed in on Felicity. He didn't care what those photos showed. Okay, so maybe the jealousy was bothering him. He had no right to feel jealous, not really. Their marriage _was_ a sham and considering permission had been given for him to have affairs, he figured that door had to swing both ways.

That didn't mean he had to like even contemplating the possibility. Even just a hug, like he saw in those photos, made his skin itch. He wished he could have that, that things were simple enough that he could embrace his own wife whenever he felt like it. Taking a deep breath, Oliver pushed those thoughts aside. There were bigger things to worry about.

Like the fact that Carrie Cutter wasn't a problem that was just going to go away on her own. Oliver felt much better having Diggle on Felicity's security detail but clearly the psychopath was more cunning and inventive than he'd expected. Otherwise, she never would have managed to get those photos without Dig's knowledge.

The reality that Felicity was in danger simply by being in his life hadn't escaped Oliver's notice. This whole situation came from his mother's desire to legitimize his claim on the family and ward off stalkers and gold diggers. Neither of them had ever taken into account that Felicity's safety might be jeopardized by the very women that Moira had sought to protect him from.

As he neared the estate, Oliver wondered if Felicity wouldn't be better off if he just pulled the plug on this whole thing. Moira would have a fit, surely. But with a divorce, Felicity could be free of the troubles that seemed to surround him wherever he went. She could continue to run Applied Sciences and have the life that she deserved with someone who could make her happy. Like maybe that guy in the picture.

He swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat. He knew that would be best for her, so why did the mere thought make him want to fight it with all his being?

It was a Saturday afternoon and Felicity was alone in the Queen mansion. Well, there were the servants and Raisa, but save for the latter they all scattered whenever she entered the room so possibilities for friendly chatter weren't very prevalent. Raisa was busy working on the evening meal and didn't need her hanging around, distracting her from her latest, greatest creation.

Thea was at the club, doing inventory and getting ready for the long night ahead. Roy had gone with her, ever vigilant as her bodyguard. Thea had been so aggravated at first when Oliver had insisted that Mr. Harper follow Thea everywhere she went outside of the mansion. Felicity had been the observer to more than one snarky conversations between Thea and Roy. To his credit, Roy mostly just took the abuse, only occasionally throwing back a one liner or two that sucked the wind out of Thea's sails. Thea was easily one of Felicity's best friends these days and while Felicity was mostly on her side, she enjoyed watching the banter between them. Lately, that banter had lost a lot of its venom and was becoming more… flirtatious. Felicity could see the writing on the wall: Thea was falling for her bodyguard and vice versa. Oh, wouldn't Oliver just love _that_ when he found out?

Moira was at another one of her society wife luncheons that she liked to frequent on the weekends. This was one was to raise money for the Firefighters Auxiliary or something? Felicity hadn't quite caught it. Of course, the elder Mrs. Queen had tried to maneuver Felicity into attending with her. She always tried, each and every time and each and every time Felicity refused to go with her. She preferred to find her own causes to support and her own methods of supporting them. She knew that these society functions were all about political maneuverings and showing off who had the most wealth and power in the room.

No, thank you.

Plus, the fact that Felicity's constant refusal to fit into the box that Moira had prepared for her caused the matriarch a great deal of grief was huge bonus. Served her right for screwing up Felicity's life.

As for her husband, Felicity had no idea where Oliver was. As was usual the last several weeks, he was absent without a word. If she didn't know any better, she might think he was specifically avoiding her. They never had a moment alone together anymore and he barely met her eye when they were in the same room. When they were first married, Felicity had appreciated Oliver's absence from her life. But then they'd started to become friends. Then maybe something… more. It felt a bit like she knew what she was missing now and she didn't like it.

So, Felicity was taking advantage of her solitude to answer some work emails that she hadn't been able to get to before leaving work the day before. After that, she went over some business proposals that had been sitting in her inbox for the last week. When there was no more work to be done, it wasn't quite noon yet. She thought maybe she'd take a swim in the large indoor pool. The exercise might do her good and help clear her mind.

Felicity was just about to change into her swimsuit when her phone rang. Her brow furrowed as she studied the screen of her phone. It wasn't a number she recognized. After debating for a moment whether to send it to voicemail, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Felicity Queen?"

"This is she. Who may I ask is calling?"

"My name is Marcus D'Angelo. I am an associate of the Bertinelli family. I have a message for you."

Felicity felt her heart catch in her throat. The Bertinellis. That is the family that the Queens had been at war with two years before. Frank Bertinelli had shot and killed Robert Queen and Oliver had in turn shot and killed Frank. There'd been a ceasefire when Oliver had run away to Russia and the truce had held ever since. She didn't know much of the details but she knew enough to know that the Bertinellis weren't exactly good news.

"What is it?" she asked, proud that her voice didn't shake.

"We have your father, Jerry Smoak."

 _Oh, frack._ Forget her throat, her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. "What? Don't hurt him!" Her mind was racing, trying to figure out how the Bertinellis had even known about her father to kidnap him in the first place. How had he gotten mixed up with the Bertinellis?

"We won't do a thing to him if you just do exactly what I say. I suggest you write this down," the man instructed.

Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears as she scrambled for a pad of paper and a pencil to write with. "I've got it."

"We need two million dollars. We also need you to come to this location, alone, in six hours." He told her an address and Felicity jotted it down with shaking fingers. Her mind was racing. Two million dollars! She had that much in the spousal account the Queens had set up for her, that wasn't a problem, but would she be able to get her hands on all of it in this short amount of time?

"What if I can't get it in time?"

"Then we kill your father."

Felicity gasped for air. Whatever her father was, whatever horrible things he'd done in his life, including his role in her current situation, he didn't deserve to _die_. "Why are you doing this?"

"Your father owes us money for gambling debts."

Fucking _seriously_? That was what had landed her in this marriage. She'd known not to expect Jerry would learn from the experience but to get in that deep with another mob family was completely outrageous. But at the same time, she felt she couldn't just let him be killed because she was annoyed he hadn't learned his lesson.

"I have the money. Just… don't hurt him. But what if the bank won't let me withdraw two million dollars?"

"They won't. You need to approve a wire transfer to this account."

She copied down the numbers he rattled off. "Okay, I've got it."

"If you're a good girl and don't tip anyone off on what you're doing, then we'll make sure we don't pay a visit to your mother too," the man told her silkily.

That was when her heart skipped several beats altogether. "My mother?" she whispered.

"Yes. If you want her to remain safe and blissfully ignorant, you'll do as we say and not try any funny business. You come down to that warehouse _by yourself_. Bring the transfer slip with you and we'll let you leave with your father. Do not be stupid and bring anyone else with you, do you understand?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good. See you at six o'clock, Mrs. Queen."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Felicity finds out just what she's up against and Oliver reacts badly to the news that Felicity is gone.**

 **The question is... would Felicity not be smart enough to realize this is a trap? Probably. I'm massaging some things here, playing to her loyalty to her family, her desire to keep her mother safe (if not her father), etc and so forth. Many people wanted her to tell Oliver but the whole point of the last several weeks for them was to drive them apart so she felt she couldn't tell him. Plus, she would probably be worried for his safety as she was told to come alone. As for Dig? Well. Keep reading.**

 **Thanks to mersayseh, again, for the beta read.**

 _"You come down to that warehouse by yourself. Bring the transfer slip with you and we'll let you leave with your father. Do not be stupid and bring anyone else with you, do you understand?"_

 _"Yes," she breathed._

 _"Good. See you at six o'clock, Mrs. Queen."_

The line went silent and she disconnected the call with shaking fingers. The phone fell from her grasp as Felicity sunk to the floor, her legs shaking. She tried to gather her thoughts, figuring what she needed to do first. She got to her knees and reached for her tablet which was on the small table she'd found the notepad on. Quickly, she looked up the banks the Queens used and their hours as related to wire transfer protocols.

The Bertinellis were either very lucky or they knew she'd be withdrawing from this particular bank since First Starling National not only had hours on Saturdays until 5pm, but also did wire transfers (up to $5 million) within four hours. Chewing her lip and considering, Felicity realized that this was all probably part of the plan. The timing of the call was likely no coincidence.

Felicity got to her feet and tore into her closet, looking for something to put on so she could hurry to the bank. Her hands were still shaking as she grabbed a cardigan set and a skirt. She needed to try to keep her wits about her, get her father and her mother out of this jam. She also needed to figure out a way to get past Diggle without him noticing. Frack. That might be the hardest part.

There was also the matter of Oliver. He might be home anytime and while she doubted he'd even notice if she was there or not, at least at first, she didn't feel right about going without leaving him _something_. She tore off the note where she'd scribbled down the information and shoved it into her pocket and then jotted a quick note for her husband.

 _Oliver,_

 _I'm sorry to do this, but he's my father. I hope you understand. I'll be back_ _if_ _when I can._

 _Felicity_

She didn't _mean_ to be cryptic, but the man on the phone had been rather explicit about her coming alone. Oliver may have been the image of disinterest lately, but she was sure he'd come after her if he thought she was trying to run from him, the family, or was in any specific type of danger.

All the same, she couldn't just leave without saying anything. She just wanted him to know that she was sorry, if this ended up going wrong ( _don't think about that, Felicity_ ) and that she hoped to be back soon. All was very true.

Suddenly, Felicity wished she'd forced some sort of conversation between them in the last couple of weeks while he'd been withdrawing. She never should have just sat back and let him put her and Thea at a distance like that. She'd thought her feelings for him were the reason why she shouldn't press him but now she couldn't help but wonder if they were why she _should_ have fought for him. Was it too late? Maybe if she got herself and her father out of this mess, she'd tell him that she was in love with him. If it wasn't too late.

Once she was dressed and grabbed her purse, Felicity stole out of her room, peering around as though she expected someone to jump out at her and stop her. She wasn't sure where Diggle was, which made it infinitely more difficult to try to avoid his notice.

She decided to throw caution to the wind and just head for the garage. If she saw him, she'd deal with it in whatever way came to mind. She crept down the empty hallways, trying not to make any noise, trying not to draw any attention to herself. Felicity had already decided she wouldn't let anyone stop her. If nothing else, she would entreat to Diggle that she had to do this to save her father. The man had a soul, after all.

Luck was on her side and she didn't come across anyone, not even staff, on her way to the garage. Once there, Felicity got behind the wheel of her Mercedes and drove out. She passed the gates, giving a nod to the guard posted there. He let her through, which she decided to take as a good sign.

She checked the rearview mirror a few times as she crossed town to the bank. It didn't look like anyone was following her, namely Diggle, but how could she tell if he was and trying to be subtle about it?

Arranging the wire transfer ended up being easy as pie. The bank teller that worked with her didn't even bat an eyelash at the amount or request that it be done today. Felicity wondered if she would have had such results if her last name wasn't Queen. No doubt her new family had a lot of money in this bank and everyone who worked there was ready to bend over backwards for them.

That was kind of a sobering thought. The Queens were one of the wealthiest families in town and everyone knew it. Including her father. If he wanted to, he could probably use her for cash. She hoped her father never really caught on to that because if he started to view her as a source of endless income, she wasn't sure what she'd do.

As she walked out of the bank, Felicity reminded herself to focus on saving her father's life (and, by extension, her mother's as well) before worrying about whatever might come after.

Oliver arrived back at the Queen mansion about an hour before dinner. He wanted to have time to change, take a shower and maybe have a drink before facing his family. Thea wasn't home yet when he arrived and neither was his mother. Felicity, he assumed, was up in her room or elsewhere in the house.

He'd been out all day. That morning, he'd spent time at the gym the Queens funded. They had an excellent free-running course that he liked to partake of to keep his skills tight. After that, he'd gone for lunch with Tommy. Apparently, Quentin had loosed the reigns on Laurel and while he hadn't given them a blessing to be together, he wasn't trying to prevent it either. Tommy was thrilled. They were moving in together next week. Oliver was happy for his friend, even while he yearned for domestic satisfaction.

 _Fuck_ , when he came back from Russia just months ago, the last thing Oliver had wanted was a relationship. He'd believed he was toxic in those situations. While a large part of him still believed that, maybe now more than ever, he was done trying to convince himself that he didn't want it. He would love nothing more than to leave the whole mob life behind and have a peaceful, normal life with Felicity by his side.

If Oliver didn't have this danger to worry about, he could certainly give it a try. He felt like he had to choose: the easy way out was divorcing Felicity to protect her. The more difficult road was to try to extricate himself from all this danger that surrounded him and win her over properly. He didn't know what to do. He would have picked Tommy's brain about it but the guy had been so happy about how things were going with Laurel that Oliver hadn't wanted to bum him out with his own depressing life.

Up in his room, he paused by the door that connected his room to Felicity's and listened. Normally, he could hear her in there, muttering at her laptop or watching television or talking on the phone to her mother. But there was silence. She'd at least be getting ready for dinner, right?

Oliver started to undress to take his shower but his mind kept wandering back to Felicity. She could be napping, but at this time of the day? She wasn't going anywhere today, he knew that much. He began to get a strange feeling in his chest. Before he'd stripped all the way down, he decided he had to satisfy his curiosity and put his mind at ease.

He knocked at the door that connected their rooms. Nothing. "Felicity!" he called out. He was met with silence. "Felicity, if you're in there, I'm coming in. I need to speak with you."

When there was still silence, Oliver wasted no time in opening the door. He found her room empty. He was about to return to his room and his shower, vowing to find her elsewhere in the mansion afterwards, when he spotted a note on the table by her windows. He picked it up and read it.

Then, he read it again.

He didn't know what to think at first. He paced her room, looking around to see if anything was misplaced. Would she run? After all this time, with the threat to her family? Was that line in the note about her father some sort of ruse to throw him off the scent that she was actually leaving him? None of her things seemed to be missing but that might not mean anything, especially if she was making a quick get away and planned to buy new clothes.

That lead him to her computer where he immediately looked up her bank account at First Starling National Bank. He went cold when he saw that her account had been drained a couple hours earlier of two million dollars.

"Fuck!" he yelled, shoving the keyboard away with a clatter. She _had_ run! A couple hours? She could be long gone by now. He flashed to an image of her withdrawing the money and taking off with that man from the photographs Carrie had shown him, smiling up at him with that bright grin of hers. It made him want to throw something. Maybe he would.

The rage poured through him as he got up and paced her room again, this time throwing pictures and vases of flowers and shouting out his frustration. The resulting crashes echoed through the room. His fit was only interrupted by a voice at Felicity's doorway.

"Oliver! What on earth are you doing?"

He turned to find his mother there, watching him with a hand over her heart. "She's gone, mother. She's left me. She took two million dollars and left me a note and she's _gone_."

Moira's eyes widened. "She wouldn't dare."

"Oh, yes she would," he said, laughing bitterly. "So much for a demure bride, eh?"

"I will admit she's not at all like I was expecting. But things seemed to be going well regardless. You seemed to… get along with her."

Oliver paused his pacing to run his hands through his short hair. "We did. Fuck, we _did_. I liked her, mother. No… I _loved_ her. And now she's gone. I fucking chased her away."

"Oliver, this is not your fault. If she was just a greedy gold-digger, no different from the rest—"

He rounded on her abruptly. "Don't say that about her. That's not who she was."

"You said she took the money and left you a note, that seems like pretty compelling evidence to me."

"She isn't just a gold-digger. I _know_ her."

"Oliver, you're not making any sense. You're the one who said she left you!" Moira reminded him, her eyes wide.

He cursed under his breath as he crossed to grab the note. "I don't know, I'm not thinking straight. I freaked out. She's not here and the money is gone. Here, read it."

He shoved the note at his mother and she took it, reading it quickly. She looked sharply up at him. "Oliver, this is not a goodbye note."

His heart was still pounding in his chest, hard enough to ache. "Then what is it?"

Moira scanned the letter again. "I think Felicity might be in danger."

The air went out of the room. "What?"

"Have a seat, please, you've gone white as a sheet!" Moira steered him to a chair and he sat. She sat in the chair next to his and pointed out to him the wording of the note. The mention of her father, that she was sorry and that she hoped to be home soon. She pointed out how Felicity had crossed out "if" before writing "when". Oliver felt his stomach twist, hating himself for automatically assuming she'd left him instead of worrying that something had happened to her. He'd let stupid jealousy that Carrie Cutter had suggested to him color his thoughts.

"Oh god, all this time I've wasted," he groaned. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hoping to see a call or text from her or Diggle but the screen was blank. He'd run out of battery.

"Shit!" he cried. He raced into his room for where his charger was plugged in next to his bedside table. He must have forgotten to plug the phone in when he went to sleep last night. He plugged it in now and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting while the phone charged enough to turn back on.

"I'll go down and have Raisa send up a drink for you," his mother said from the doorway. He nodded distractedly at her.

He didn't need a drink. He needed a slap to the head. How could he have been such an obtuse ass? _Because a part of you has always been scared that she'd leave you_ , a little voice answered. He grit his teeth and checked his phone again. That little voice wasn't helping right now.

Finally, the phone charged enough to turn back on and immediately, Oliver received an avalanche of missed calls and texts. None were from Felicity, however. They were all from Diggle, which made his stomach twist unpleasantly. Before he could read even one text, his phone rang again. He answered it immediately.

"Dig?"

"Oliver! Where the hell you been, man? I've been trying to reach you all afternoon!"

Again, Oliver swore under his breath. "My fucking phone ran out of juice. What's happened? Where's Felicity? Is she okay?" He was already walking out of the room, headed towards the garage and the Ducati he knew was waiting down there for him.

"Calm down, man. She's fine, for now, but she needs you to be calm, okay?"

"Jesus, Dig." He took a deep breath. The Ducati was right where he'd left it after the last time he'd taken the beauty out for a ride. He grabbed the helmet off the seat, set the phone to speaker and set it down while he fit the helmet on his head. "Tell me what's happening. I'll calm down if you tell me what's going on!"

"Sometime around 12:30 she left the house and went straight to the First Starling National Bank. She was in there for about a half hour before she walked out. I thought she was just running some errands so I just kept an eye on her from a distance while she did her thing. She poked into a few stores but without any real intent. It looked like she was just wasting time and she looked like she had something on her mind."

"Go on." He didn't like the sound of this. Not one bit. He fired up the bluetooth headset within his helmet and stashed his phone as he kicked the bike to life and peeled out of the garage.

"I kept my distance because when she was leaving the house, she looked as though she was trying to see where I was, to sneak past me. I wanted to see what she was up to. So I continued to keep my distance, watching her while keeping myself hidden from her view. She ended up at a cafe down the block from the shops and she sat there, drinking coffee and… waiting."

"Waiting for what?" Oliver shot past the guard at the gate, not even signaling a greeting.

Dig's voice lowered. "She was waiting for a meeting. About a half hour ago at 5:30 she got in the car and headed down towards the warehouse district by the docks. After wandering around a bit she seemed to have found the place and went inside. Took me a minute to get into position where I could see what was going on. That's where I am now, I'm out of sight, out of earshot if I keep my voice down. There's some other people here."

"What other people?" Oliver asked, having a very bad feeling about all of this. Meeting at the docks? That was never good. He put on more speed, grateful that the docks were only minutes away from the part of town.

"I'm trying to get a better look, Oliver." There was a pause and the sound of the phone being fumbled. "Shit! It's the Bertinellis. Helena herself is here. You better get down here. It doesn't look good, man."

Felicity arrived at the correct warehouse right on time. Her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty. Consciously, she knew this was a terrible idea. She knew nothing about what to expect, about who these people really were or what they might do to her or father. She should have told Diggle or Oliver or _someone_. But she was here now, she'd already done the wire transfer and she was committed to this hare-brained scheme. It was for her father. And her mother. She didn't really have a choice.

Moments after knocking on the warehouse door, it was opened and a muscled goon in a suit ushered her inside to where two other men in suits stood beside a tall, slender and attractive woman. She stood next to a chair where Jerry Smoak sat, his hands bound.

"Mrs. Queen. I'm glad you could join us."

She stopped before the woman, trying not to look as awkward as she felt. She held the wire transfer receipt out in front of her, willing her hand not to shake. "I did what you asked. The money should be in your account."

The woman nodded her head at one of the men who pulled a small tablet out of an interior suit jacket pocket. He typed in a few things and then nodded back at the woman. She smiled at him before turning that same toothy grin on Felicity.

"Fantastic. It's nice to see that you're so good at following orders." Her voice was laced with derision. It made Felicity's skin crawl.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"Helena. Helena Bertinelli. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself sooner. I was a little distracted by the business at hand and forgot my manners." Again with the toothy smile.

"I wish I could say it's a pleasure meeting you…"

Helena affected a pout. "Aww. Did Oliver not mention me? I'm surprised, considering our past together. We nearly got married, did you know that? In fact, that's what started the whole war between our families."

Felicity could see that the woman was trying to rattle her, make her jealous. She wasn't falling for it. "Yes, well as romantic as that sounds, can we get back to the business at hand here?"

"Oh yes, let's do that."

"And this money will clear my father's debt with your family?" Felicity asked. "Can you let him go now?"

Helena nodded at another one of the men. He began to untie Jerry wrists while she spoke. "I'm sorry to have to mislead you, Felicity. You seem like a nice girl and you don't deserve to be in the middle of all this."

"What are you talking about? You took my father because he owed you money from debts. I paid them off."

Jerry stood, rubbing his wrists and he gave Felicity a sheepish look that had the pit in her stomach growing exponentially.

"I'm afraid that was all a ruse to get you to come down here. You see, I have some unfinished business with Oliver Queen. He murdered my father." Helena didn't sound the least bit apologetic.

"This was all just to get to Oliver?" Felicity cried.

Helena's lips twisted as if she was rueful about the whole situation. "I'm afraid so. You see, it was bad enough that he killed my father…"

"Your father killed his father!"

"… But he also left me. And that… just doesn't happen."

"Wait, so you're saying you've concocted this whole abduction thing because you're ticked off that Oliver _dumped you_?" Felicity looked to her father. "And you were in on this?"

"Oh, to be fair, your father did want money. Just not to pay off any debts to my family," Helena explained. "God knows what he needed the two million for, I didn't even ask."

"I'm sorry, Lis…" her father said. Rage boiled in her gut, making her want to throw up. Instead, she turned and ran for the exit.

Two pairs of hands grabbed her before she'd gone more than a few steps. She kicked and screamed as they pulled her back to the chair her father had been sitting on just moments ago.

"You can scream all you like, Felicity, no one will hear you," Helena told her. The men tied her wrists and then bound her torso to the chair. She struggled but could soon see it would do no good. These goons were good at what they did.

"How could you, Dad?" she cried at her father. He was trying to avert his eyes, looking pained. "I'm your daughter! How could you just serve me up to them like this?"

"You promised me you weren't going to hurt her, right? Just use her as bait to lure out Queen?" Jerry asked Helena. She continued to look bored.

"Of course, that's what we told you, Mr. Smoak. You wouldn't have cooperated if we hadn't."

He looked surprised. "You lied? What are you going to do to her?"

"If you cared remotely about your daughter you would never have agreed to help us."

While she hated to agree with the woman who was responsible for her being tied to this chair right now, Felicity had to admit that Helena had a point. She couldn't believe her father would do this. But hadn't she been saying that all along? First she couldn't believe he would basically sell her off to the Queen family. Now this? Maybe she'd just underestimated how shallow he was, how selfish and how reckless. Yet, even in the precarious position she now found herself in, Felicity didn't hate her father. She pitied him, was disappointed in him and in herself for not trying to get him some real substantial help before now. How bad off did he have to be to resort to this crazy plan… just to get money?

Looking at him now, she could see the signs of his drug addiction on his face. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks sallow. He looked like he hadn't slept in days and hadn't bathed in even longer. How could she feel anything besides pity?

"Lis, baby, don't listen to her. You know I love you. I just… I needed the money," her father pleaded with her, dropping to his knees before her.

"Just get out of here, Dad, before they change their minds. And promise you'll use that money to get yourself out of this mess, get yourself straight."

"I promise, Lis." He stumbled to his feet and started for the door. Felicity watched him go, as did Helena.

When his hand touched the door, however, Helena called. "Actually, Mr. Smoak. I have just one more item of business to take care of."

Felicity felt her heart drop into her stomach. One of the men crossed to Jerry and escorted him back to a spot in front of Helena. She was watching him like a shark watched a baby seal. Felicity could see her father sweating from where she sat.

"Helena, you don't have to do this," Felicity told her. She had to _try_.

"Nonsense. Of course I do."

Flicking her wrist, she indicated to one of her goons. Without hesitation, the man drew his gun and shot her father in the head. It was almost like watching it in slow motion and being utterly helpless to stop it, which she was. Jerry's head snapped back, the back of his skull blew out and just like that, her father was dead. Felicity screamed as his body crumbled to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Helena turned toward her, a feline smile curling her lips as she pulled out a large gun of her own and pointed it right at her. "Any last words, princess?"


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Will Oliver get to the warehouse in time to save Felicity's life? What is Helena's plan in all of this? How awesome can Dig possibly be?**

 **We're really getting down to it. Thank you again to EVERYONE for your outpouring of support for this story. All the tweets, reblogs, likes, kudos, comments ... they mean the world to me. I've been working on this story for SO LONG, and I wasn't even sure I'd ever be able to share it with you all so THANK YOU.**

 **Biggest thanks goes to mersayseh because besides doing me the great service of beta reading, she also compelled me to finish and post this.**

 **Two more chapters left after this!**

John Diggle had been with the Queens ever since he'd returned from his fourth tour in Afghanistan. He'd known that war was over for him; he couldn't go back there again. Most of his original company that he'd first deployed with had either been killed, wounded or not re-signed with the Army. He couldn't go back without his men. Plus, his heart wasn't in that fight anymore.

No, not since his brother, Andy, was killed by the Chinese Triad in Starling City.

So he'd left one war for another. Two weeks back home in Starling had taught him that while he'd spent the last several years of his life fighting as a decorated soldier, he was in no way prepared for the battles that awaited him in his home city. The Triad worked him over good his first night home, left him with some scars that he wouldn't ever forget. It was lucky for him that his initial failures not only didn't get him killed but got him an in with the Queen family.

Robert Queen had come across him during one of these confrontations with the Triad and had taken him in, stitched him up, gave him a purpose within the family. He'd always be grateful for that.

Back then, Oliver had been a careless young man, disinterested in the mob business beyond what his father insisted he take part in. Even so, he developed a rapport with him right away. Diggle could see there was more to him than the selfish playboy that everyone else saw. He was proven right when the war with the Bertinelli family blew up and Oliver stepped up to do what had to be done.

Diggle was devoted to the Queen family. What's more, he thought of Oliver as his brother in arms. As such, Felicity was immediately important to him as well, by extension. Now, Dig had spent a good deal of time with the young woman in the last couple of weeks since Oliver had assigned him to be her bodyguard. He learned that Felicity was warm, intelligent, caring and loyal. So, while following her when she left the Queen mansion was his job, the concern he felt when he saw she was meeting someone at a warehouse was genuine.

He'd hidden around the corner from the warehouse door and made one last call to Oliver and God must have been smiling on him because finally the man had answered. While they talked, Dig found another door that looked like it was used for freight transport. It was standing slightly ajar and he slipped in, using the cover of crates to hide behind while he got a good look at just who Felicity was meeting. That was when he told Oliver he better get his butt down to the warehouse pronto.

The Bertinellis were _bad news_. Helena, especially so. Diggle continued to crouch behind the crates. He'd been on the front lines of the war between the families, had fought by Oliver's side, had been with him the night the assassination on Frank Bertinelli took place. Knowing what he knew, Dig couldn't quite figure out what Helena was doing with Felicity's father.

That is, until it became clear that Jerry Smoak had just been used as bait to lure Felicity out. Oliver was the real target and Felicity was the real bait. It was twisted and convoluted but that was Helena's wheelhouse, after all. He shouldn't have been surprised. But the problem was that now Dig had done Helena's work for her and Oliver was on his way. It was a trap. He tried to send a text as he watched the situation heat up, but Oliver remained silent. Dig knew that meant he was already on his way and probably was getting close.

He debated the merits of rushing out into the warehouse. As the situation obviously worsened, he wanted to rush out and save Felicity from what he could clearly see was coming. But the fact was that with three armed men, not to mention Helena who wasn't a bad shot herself, Diggle didn't stand a chance. It would be suicide. He didn't have much choice besides waiting for Oliver to show up. Hopefully this meant more backup from the rest of the Queen family wouldn't be far behind but he wasn't at all sure that Oliver would have thought to send out that particular beacon.

Out on the floor, Felicity was tied to the chair and Helena was taunting her. Jerry was starting to get worried and Diggle could read the writing on the wall. Quickly, he thumbed out a quick text message to Slade and Roy, asking them to marshal some forces and get down to the docks as soon as they could.

"Dig!" It was little more than a whisper but it felt loud to his ears. He whipped his head around to see Oliver creeping towards him, also using the crates as cover.

"Oliver, I shouldn't have called you. It's a trap," he whispered back.

When Oliver looked at him, confused, he pointed out at the Bertinelli's and Felicity. Just then, one of Helena's henchmen pulled out a gun and shot Jerry in the head. Felicity's scream rang out through the warehouse and Oliver clenched his jaw, clearly wanting to act. His tension increased a hundredfold when Helena turned a gun on Felicity. Now, he _needed_ to act and Diggle understood that completely. But they needed a _plan_.

After a quick conference, they were as ready as they were going to be. There were about a million different potential holes in Oliver's plan but it was the best option they had on such short notice. As Dig sent up a quick prayer that the damn fool didn't get his head immediately blown off, Oliver stepped out from behind the crates, making his presence known.

"Helena!" Oliver barked. "Leave her alone!"

She turned towards him at the same time that Felicity looked his way. The three goons all turned on him, weapons drawn, waiting at the ready. Felicity looked shocked to see him, Helena didn't look the least bit surprised as she gestured for her men to lower their weapons. Of course she wasn't, this was a trap, right?

"I'm so glad you could make it, Oliver. I was waiting for you to show up."

"Great, so now that I'm here, you can just let Felicity go."

"Where's the fun in that?" Helena pouted. "After all, what better way is there to remove her from the equation than to just… ice her?" She twirled her gun around carelessly before pointing it at Felicity again.

He saw Felicity hold her breath, her eyes focused on the barrel of the gun. Tears were still running down her face and he felt a pang for her. Her father may have been a piece of shit but she it still couldn't have been easy to see him shot right in front of her. And now, the gun was clearly making her nervous and it made _him_ nervous too. He needed to get Helena's attention off of Felicity and onto him.

"Because if you do that, then I'll have to kill you and all these men here." He delivered the line with a straight face, meeting Helena's gaze straight on. The men next to her tensed. She tutted at them to relax.

"You won't do that, Oliver."

"How do you know that? I killed your father, didn't I?"

A shadow crossed her face. "Yes, you did. I can't believe you did that, Ollie. That was my father. He was an imperious asshole, yes, but _still_."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Helena. You didn't care if he was dead or not. In fact, if I recall, you wanted him dead so that we could be together."

Her lips twisted. "You have a good memory."

"It was a fairly memorable time in my life."

"I was angry with him because he didn't think we should see each other," Helena pointed out. "That didn't mean I wanted him _dead_." He took a few steps to the side, around Helena's back and she turned to face him.

"If you'll recall, I didn't want us to see each other anymore either, Helena," Oliver reminded her. "That's what started your whole fit in the first place."

She visibly seethed at that. "It was not a _fit_. We were in love! He was keeping us apart! So was your father!"

"Please, that was just an excuse."

"No, it wasn't!"

"We are _not_ Romeo and Juliet, Helena," Oliver argued. "We never were. You wanted more from me and I told you I wasn't looking to settle down."

"We both know I would have worn you down," Helena replied, smug. "You men are all the same and while you were quite the wild party boy, I knew I could tame you if given the opportunity."

"Says every woman who dates a bad boy," Oliver scoffed. "You never would have ensnared me, Helena."

"I could have. You were obviously ripe for the plucking as this one over here managed the job that so many before her could not."

Oliver grit his teeth at the mention of Felicity. "Felicity is different."

"She's _weak_. She came here to save her useless father, the man who'd given her up just like that. All over money. She's nothing."

"Don't say that," he growled.

She glanced over her shoulder at Felicity and stepped closer to Oliver. "We could still make it work, you know. Imagine, the two biggest families in Starling City, united. We would be unstoppable! We would rule this city! Together!" She gestured wildly and Oliver realized that whatever grip Helena had on her sanity was gone. "This is our opportunity, Oliver, right here! Just say the word—" She looked over her shoulder at one of her henchmen and jerked her head in Felicity's direction—"and I'll have your little wife 'dealt with'. Then, we can be together. We can get married and unite our empires as we should have been able to do two years ago."

At Helena's gesture, the henchman stepped towards Felicity, a knife drawn. He'd just lain it aside her throat when Oliver growled, "Don't you dare touch her. You lay one finger on her and I swear to God, I will rip both of your arms off."

To think, he'd worried about Carrie Cutter making basically the same threats. That woman was small potatoes next to this group and he knew that right here, right now, Felicity was in real danger. The difference was that Helena could easily carry out her plan. He knew it, she knew it, and from the stricken look on Felicity's face, she knew it too. He tried to communicate to her with his eyes that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Her concern didn't seem to abate and the way her eyes flicked over him told him that she was worried about _him_.

"Now, now, Oliver. No need to be so rude to my boys here."

"If any one of you hurts her, I will make it my personal mission in life to end each and every one of you. And I will take my time with it," he vowed.

Helena considered him. "You're starting to make me think that you have real feelings for her."

"More than I ever had for you," he told her. She looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Helena, but it's the truth. You said it, I was a spoiled, selfish boy back when we were together. I wanted my cake and to eat it too. You were a hot girl with legs a mile long and we had a lot of fun together. That's all I really wanted out of life back then was an endless supply of fun. Soon as it stopped being fun, I moved on. But you wouldn't have that."

"We were in love."

"Maybe you were, but I wasn't."

"But you _said_ you loved me."

"Did I?" Oliver tried to think back to when he'd been that kid, carelessly sleeping his way through a list of socialites. He knew he'd never actually been in love but there'd been a few times he'd said it, just to get in a girl's pants. He wasn't proud of it, but there it was.

"Don't you dare deny it!" Helena shouted. Her lip was trembling and Oliver had to figure out how he should play this. He _had_ to get her away from Felicity. He took another step to the side and thankfully, she followed him.

"Helena, I'm sorry. I was an idiot then. I was young and foolish. I only ever thought about myself. You said back then that you liked that about me."

She chewed her lip a little. "I did, I thought it was funny how everyone got so worked up over your antics. It was fun raising hell in the press with you."

"It _was_ fun. But, Helena, I didn't _mean_ any of it. It was just… having a good time. I'm sorry that you got wrapped up in real feelings and that I let you think I was right there with you but I just… wasn't."

"No…"

"How do you think I was able to just walk away from you? Don't you remember? You came to me, begging me to run away with you and leave Starling behind."

"I remember… I wanted us to drive off together, start a new life, start a new family." Her eyes lit up as she thought back.

"Yes, and do you remember what I said?"

The light in her eyes clouded over. "You said that I was crazy. That you weren't going to go anywhere or starting any family with me."

Oliver sighed. "I'm sorry. I was an ass about it. But Helena, I didn't want that life with you. I never did. I still don't."

Her gaze cut over to Felicity and Oliver stood between them so she had to revert her attention back to him. She was glaring now. "You said you loved me."

"I didn't. I don't." He was firm.

Her expression hardened further. "You humiliated me."

"I didn't mean to, Helena. I'm sorry."

"We were supposed to be this power couple together. And now I have _nothing_."

"Helena, don't be ridiculous. You are the head of your family. You got what you wanted, to run your business!"

"Oh please, ever since your family crushed ours, since you killed my _father,_ the Bertinelli name hasn't amounted to shit. We have no power left here in Starling."

"So leave. Find a new city and start over. You can still do that, you don't need me to do it with you."

"I don't want to do it without you, Oliver, haven't you figured that out by now?"

The manic gleam in her eyes was back and Oliver's sense of unease grew. He glanced over by the crates, to where he knew Dig was. Had the other men shown up yet? If so, one should be covering Dig, with the other two positioned at the exits. He swallowed, unsure how to stall her any further. He was pretty sure he'd gotten her far enough away from Felicity…

"Helena…" he said, unsure what he could do, what he could say.

"You were always a part of this package for me, Ollie. I can't have it without you. Now you tell me you don't want it. That you want to stay married to _her_?!" She hurled it like it was an insult.

"I do. Felicity is my wife… I— I love her."

For as much as his mouth had turned to sawdust in that moment, he knew he'd spoken the truth. He loved Felicity. He'd been falling in love with her ever since the day he'd met her at the Queen mansion and she'd put him in his place. He loved the way she stood up for herself and anyone else she felt needed defending. She wasn't fearless, but she didn't let her fears stop her and he wondered if she knew what an amazing quality that was. How _rare_ it was. She was smart and funny and beautiful and somewhere along the way he'd fallen head over heels for his wife.

Oliver looked at her then, needing to see her reaction. Her mouth was open and the tears were still wet on her cheeks. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, if her blue eyes being as wide as saucers indicated disbelief or just simple shock. He wanted, _no_ , he _needed_ her to believe him.

Helena hissed, drawing his attention back to her. "How can you love her? She's nothing! She's not from a big family, she's just…" She sputtered incoherently.

"She's everything," Oliver finished for her.

Her face went red as she drew her brows together. "I'm not going to let you go just so you two can run off and play house together."

"You don't have a choice, Helena." Oliver spotted some movement out of the corner of his eye. _Just a little bit longer…_

"There is always a choice, Oliver," she told him, her voice patronizing. "And I think I choose… if I can't have you, then no one can."

The next heartbeat seemed to stretch forever. He heard Felicity's sharp cry echo off the warehouse walls, reverberating in his ears. He saw Helena pull up her gun, aiming it right at him. There was a rush of movement from all around him and he hoped maybe it was his men, finally making their move. His heart pounded in his ears in those last moments, drowning out everything else. His attention was focused on the barrel of that gun, pointed at him. He closed his eyes for a second, the same second he heard the sharp retort sound over Felicity's cry. _Felicity_. He remembered the way she felt had in his arms that night that they spent together, how perfect that was. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

What a shame he'd finally found his match right before he was going to die.

There was a loud bang, a sharp burning pain tearing through his torso. Then, chaos erupted.

Maseo, Roy and Slade all arrived while Oliver was making a plea for Helena to give up her crazy plans and let them go. Dig knew as well as Oliver did that it wouldn't work. He knew the boss was stalling for time. Drawing Helena further away from Felicity so he or one of the other guys could get a clean shot without endangering Oliver's wife. They had to wait for the right moment, get Helena lulled enough into a false sense of security, for her goons to relax their guard a bit… And yes, for the men to get into place.

Using a series of hand gestures, Dig indicated he wanted Slade on the main warehouse door and Maseo around back. Roy was to stick with him, covering his six, being his second set of eyes. The men complied without another word. They were a well-oiled machine, the five of them carried out many operations together. In a way, they reminded Dig of his old unit back in the Army.

He watched, with growing dread, as the situation out in the warehouse spiraled out of control. Oliver insisted he loved Felicity and from the look on her face, it was news to her. God help him, he hoped they were able to get her and him out of here alive so they could have what looked like a much needed conversation. But for now, he had to wait for the moment.

He should have remembered this was Helena and that the woman was batshit crazy. She never did adhere to any sort of logic or sense in situations like that. So when she pulled the gun on Oliver, it was the last thing Dig had expected her to do. Pull a gun on Felicity, sure. That's what he'd been prepared for. The shock of it threw him off guard just long enough for her to fire the shot.

He shouted, he knew he did because his throat was sore with it. There were bangs and shouts as Maseo and Slade rushed inside, picking off Helena's goons with precision. Dig went straight for the bitch herself. He raised his gun and without a moment's pause, aimed right for her forehead. She had just enough time to register a surprised expression before she dropped to the ground, dead.

Good riddance, too.

But Oliver…

Fuck, he should have moved on her sooner before she… his eyes drifted to where Oliver lay.

Diggle could hear Felicity screaming. But it wasn't fear he heard in her tortured voice; it was anguish.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: The aftermath (and fallout) of the battle in the warehouse.**

 **This is it folks, the penultimate chapter. Just how did our boy fare after that shocking twist. I'm pleased I was able to surprise some of you with that. You aren't an easy lot to surprise! You are also some great readers and I'm very grateful for the time you've taken to read my story and leave me nice comments. I can't believe we're almost at the end!**

 **Thanks again to mersayseh for being my fabulous beta reader.**

Felicity was in hell.

Honestly, how much more could she be expected to withstand? Her father was shot right in front of her. With all his faults, he was still her father. And now he was dead. She'd watched the back of his skull get blown off with her own eyes. She'd seen his body crumble to the floor right in front of her.

Her screams had barely died down from that assault, certain that she was next as Helena aimed a gun right at her head. Felicity closed her eyes, whispering frantic prayers to herself, waiting for the shot that would end her life.

Instead… she heard Oliver.

"Helena! Leave her alone!"

Felicity almost sobbed, so glad to hear his voice that her heart nearly cracked open with it. This man whom she could barely stand mere months ago was now one of the most dear people to her in her life. No, he _was_ the most dear. And now he was here. He _came for her_. And, oh god, she was so scared for him. Because Helena was _insane_.

He started talking to the other woman and Felicity could see that he was trying to draw Helena away from her. They were talking about… the war between the families, things that Felicity hadn't known. If Helena wasn't so clearly unstable, she might have felt sorry for her. She'd been sucked in by Oliver's charms and he'd lied to her about his feelings for her. And when push came to shove, he hadn't been there. He'd left her swinging in the breeze.

The war had killed both of their fathers. What Helena didn't seem to realize was that it had also killed all hope of any sort of relationship between her and Oliver. Not that there'd been much hope before. Sure, before maybe she could have talked him into it, _maybe_. But once Frank Bertinelli killed Robert Queen, that was that. Felicity didn't know all the details, but she knew enough. She knew that losing his father had changed Oliver fundamentally. She knew that hunting down Frank Bertinelli and assassinating him, altered his perspective on life completely. She knew that the exile to Russia for fourteen months forced Oliver to grow up and leave that selfish boy behind. He was a man now.

He was _her_ man now.

Felicity wasn't sure what Oliver was trying to do at first. He just kept talking, kept moving Helena away, gradually maneuvering so that he was in between the two women. Then she figured out that he was stalling for time. Was help coming? Was Diggle on the way? Were they not alone after all? Was there _hope_?

And then…

Oliver was saying he wanted to stay married to her, that she was his wife that he… That he….

"I love her," he told Helena soberly.

His eyes met hers and she could see the sincerity of what he said shining in his eyes. Did she dare believe it? She knew she loved him, she'd fallen hard for him despite her best efforts not to. He'd pushed her away after their night together but now… he loved her? Did she believe it? He'd told Helena he loved her when it was just a lie… would he do the same to her?

No, he'd changed. He was different. He _loved_ her.

It had to be true. If it wasn't, then Helena wouldn't have that look on her face. She was turning red, her eyes were on fire as she spat ugly words at Oliver. She was truly coming unhinged and Felicity began to feel very nervous about what Helena might try to do next. Would she shoot her anyway, right there in front of Oliver?

But Helena had one more surprise up her sleeve. She shot Oliver instead. The bullet impacted somewhere on his torso, not his head, thank goodness. The shocked look on his face as he fell to his knees said that he hadn't expected her to do that either. Felicity was screaming again, unable to take her eyes away from Oliver as he slumped over. He was looking at her, his eyes pleading and she was crying out.

She barely registered the chaos that erupted all around them, the multiple gunshots, the bodies of Helena and her goons falling to the warehouse floor. All she could do was keep her eyes on Oliver, calling at him to hold on. His eyelids were drooping but he remained focused on her. She could see the blood pouring from his shoulder and while she felt fairly certain the bullet had missed his heart, the blood was pouring out of him and he was growing paler by the moment.

"Hold on, Felicity." Dig was standing over her, his face shining with perspiration. She felt his fingers at her wrists, untying her. As soon as the rope around her chest that held her to the chair fell loose, she was up and on her feet and stumbling towards Oliver.

She fell on her knees next to him, reaching immediately for his hands, which already felt cold and clammy. "Oliver!"

"F-licity," he gasped, struggling to move, to sit up.

"Shh… just lay there. Help is coming. Don't move," she urged. She glanced over her shoulder at Diggle who stood above them. He nodded, shaking his mobile phone at her.

"But wait," she said, her mind racing, "Won't you guys get in trouble for shooting—" She cut herself off, glancing towards Helena and her goons, as well as her father.

Slade joined Dig and patted him on the shoulder. "How's our boy?"

"Not good," Felicity said, frowning, looking for something she could use the put pressure against Oliver's shoulder.

Roy arrived at her side then and handed her his hoodie. She wadded it up and pressed it to the wound. Oliver gasped in a breath.

"We should be okay," Dig assured her. "We have enough proof here that there was a kidnapping attempt against you. We'll just spin that, say that Oliver got word of where you were being held and brought us with him for backup. With Oliver shot and your father, well… We can claim it was self defense."

Felicity nodded and turned her attention back to Oliver. His eyes were on her face and she squeezed his hands tighter. "Stay with me, Oliver."

"Don't… wanna lose… you," he gasped.

She bit her lip and looked up at Maseo. "Go see if you see the ambulance! Hurry!"

He rushed out and Felicity bent over Oliver, brushing her lips over his forehead. "You can't leave me, Oliver. You hear me?" She drew back and watched his eyelids flutter a bit, listened to him gasp against the pain. She bit into her lip, feeling the tears spring up to her eyes for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. "Oliver!"

He struggled to keep his eyes on her. "Love… you."

The tears spilled over. "Please, Oliver, they're almost here. Just hold on."

"Can't…"

"Stay with me. I love you!" she cried out. Why hadn't she said it sooner? "Do you hear me, Oliver?"

His lips trembled a little, curving ever so slightly. "Love… me?"

"Yes! So you can't die, okay? Because I won't let you go. You said you love me, and I love you and that means I'm not ready to say goodbye."

He just looked at her, his eyes tired but so full of love. Felicity leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. She tasted her own tears more than she tasted him.

She couldn't lose him. She _wouldn't_.

Everything after the sound of the gunshot was a blur. He felt pain, spreading out from his shoulder, then fading. He heard Felicity's voice, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. He felt the coolness of the cement floor under his cheek. He saw fogged shapes moving all around him. He smelled Felicity's shampoo and then felt her hands, grasping his. Her hands were so warm, _she_ was so warm. He craved more of it.

"F-licity." His own voice sounded far away, weak and thready, as though it belonged to someone else. He struggled to sit up, to reach for her but she pushed him back down.

"Don't move," he heard her say. Her voice was like music to his ears. He couldn't feel his shoulder, where he knew the bullet had hit him. The numbness was spreading through him, bringing warmth. Oliver knew he should fight it but it felt so good.

But so did Felicity. Her voice and her touch. He struggled to keep his focus on _her._ Some other people came into view and he recognized them as his men. They were talking but again, he couldn't make out the words. Everyone seemed worried, stressed out.

Felicity was crying. Was it because of him? Her father? Everything? He would give anything to stop her tears, to make her happy again. He wanted to reach up, touch her face, but his hands were not responding to his mind's commands.

"Stay with me, Oliver" she commanded him. She had such fire within her. His mother tried to find a demure woman for him and she'd found Felicity instead. If he could thank his lucky stars right now, he would.

"Don't… wanna lose… you."

His words seemed to make her more upset than before. Felicity shouted something at someone, but all he could do was watch her face, even as his vision began to grey around the corners. What he was aware of was her leaning over him, her lips pressing to his forehead. Her scent swamped him and more pain fled as he let himself focus on her.

His Felicity. His home.

She drew back and a sudden slice of pain ripped through him, causing him to gasp and arch against it. The blood was pounding in his ears and he couldn't hear what she was saying to him, but Oliver thought maybe she was asking him to stay with her. As if he wanted to leave…

"Love… you…" he told her. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes, trying to see her better.

She was pleading with him again and it was so hard because he could feel sleep pulling at him. He was tired, so fucking _tired_. He wanted to just close his eyes and give in to it and see her again after he'd slept for about five days.

"Stay with me. I love you! Do you hear me, Oliver?"

He heard that. Once more, he struggled to focus on her. Had she just… "Love… me?" he gasped. He could barely believe it, after everything… she loved him? Even after he'd pushed her away? How could he even deserve that?

God, he loved her.

"Yes! So you can't die, okay? Because I won't let you go. You said you love me, and I love you and that means I'm not ready to say goodbye." Felicity was crying and laughing all at once and she looked amazing, like an angel.

She kissed him then, with lips wet from her own tears and Oliver wanted to kiss her back but he lacked the strength. The darkness was pulling at him again and this time, he couldn't fight it. As it finally pulled him under and the blackness took over, he heard Felicity crying out his name one more time.

Mid-morning sun was shining through the windows at the far end of the hospital corridor as Moira let herself out of her son's hospital room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Oliver was going to be just fine. He'd lost a lot of blood and his system had been taxed as a result. After some initial difficulty stabilizing him, once he'd had a transfusion, he'd pulled out of the woods. Now, he was resting comfortably and Felicity was glued to his side, her own head resting on the bed next to him. No one, not her or Thea or Diggle or anyone else had been able to convince her to take a break. She had to hand it to the girl, she had a lot more spine than Moira had ever expected. Regardless of what her intentions were to start with, she was glad her son had Felicity by his side now. She was good for him, and he was good for her. Moira wasn't often wrong, and she wasn't entirely convinced she was wrong in bringing those two together. But she certainly had misjudged Felicity.

"Mrs. Queen!" a female voice cried. She turned to see a slender red-headed woman hurry forward with flowers clutched in her hand. "I came as soon as I heard. How is he doing?"

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Moira asked, stepping back from the woman. Her bodyguard, a burly wall of a man who had been standing against the wall and waiting for her, stepped forward but she signaled him that she could handle this.

"I'm Carrie Cutter. I'm sure that Oliver has mentioned me, we're very close."

Ah, yes. She'd heard of Carrie. Oliver had told her the week before that he'd been dealing with her stalking him and Felicity and making threats. Apparently, she wasn't the sort of woman who took a hint. Plus, she'd threatened the life of Moira's daughter-in-law. Inexcusable.

"He _has_ mentioned you, but I'm sure not in the manner you're thinking." She stepped closer to the woman and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I'm willing to make you an offer, Ms. Cutter."

"Oh?" Carrie looked intrigued and interested, not to mention thrilled to have the ear of the Queen family matriarch.

"I am willing to fund you a first class ticket on a flight out of Starling City bound for Gotham City today. I am willing to set you up with a reasonable bank account so you can get on your feet once you are there. Start your life over."

Carrie blinked her big eyes disbelievingly. "Leave Starling? Why would I want to leave Oliver? We're going to be together."

"No, my dear, you are not. My son is married."

"To a weak woman who is not worth of him!"

Moira bristled. "Listen to me very carefully. Felicity has more strength in her little pinky than you do in your whole body. You are a farce and an embarrassment. You will never again threaten my daughter-in-law. She is family and the _family_ will protect her. Whatever it takes." She let the implication be felt as she met Carrie's gaze head on, not breaking eye contact.

"Are you threatening me?" she asked, her voice a horrified whisper.

"I am indeed threatening you. Your only option is to take me up on my very generous offer to you. A plane ticket to Gotham, a fund to help you get a fresh start."

"But—!"

"Unless you'd rather I gave the order to have you meet an untimely accident?"

Carrie Cutter swallowed visibly and for the first time in far too long by Moira's estimation, looked genuinely frightened. Good, she should be.

"So what will it be, Ms. Cutter?" Moira asked her calmly.

To her credit, Carrie took a moment. She glanced towards Oliver's hospital room door but the bodyguard stepped over in front of the door, shaking his head at her slowly. She swallowed again.

"I will be happy to take your offer, Mrs. Queen," she replied quietly.

Moira beamed a smile at her. "Wonderful. I'm very glad to hear it." She turned, not to the mountain in front of Oliver's door but to the other man who stood off to the side, his business not to be noticed. "Maseo? Can you please give Ms. Cutter a ride to her apartment to pack a bag and then to the airport so we can be sure she won't miss her flight?"

"I'd be happy to, Mrs. Queen." He stepped past her, getting between her and Carrie and just like that… Carrie Cutter was out of all their lives. Maseo would see her out of Starling, one way or another.

As he walked way with the terrible woman, Moira placed a quick call to the airline her family frequented when they weren't using one of the private jets and arranged for a ticket for Ms. Cutter. Then she called her assistant and requested the account be set up for her as well.

A few minutes later, she put her phone away in her pocket and breathed a sigh of relief. That's one problem taken care of. Oliver could stand to learn from her on how to deal with this sort of thing if he was truly going to be taking over the family business. Honestly, it was shameful that he'd let it go on as long as he had.

As the Queen family matriarch set off down the hallway, her mountain-esque bodyguard following along behind her, she thought she might stop by the coffee shop down the corner and get a couple of lattes and bring one back for Felicity. The poor girl had been through the ringer; losing her father like that (not that it was any great loss but the experience of it had to be traumatic) and then nearly losing Oliver… yet she'd kept her head on straight through it all. Perhaps, maybe, one day she would be fit to become the matriarch of this family in Moira's absence.

Stranger things had been known to happen.

Felicity woke up when the sun's rays slanted across Oliver's bed, shining on her face. She blinked her eyes against the brightness and straightened up, or at least tried to. It'd still been dark outside when she'd fallen asleep, bent over Oliver's side. Her neck and shoulders protested as she sat up but her attention went directly to Oliver. He was still asleep, which the doctors had assured her several hours ago was a good thing.

The bullet had missed all major organs but had nicked an artery, which had lead to his blood loss. Now that he'd been stitched up properly and given more blood, it was all on him to get his rest and regain his strength. That, she was told, would just take time.

Still, Felicity wasn't going to leave his side. Not for more comfortable sleep, not for food, not for a shower. She had to be there when Oliver woke up. She needed to see his eyes and only then would she feel reassured that he was going to be okay. And, yeah, she wanted to finish the little conversation they'd started back at the warehouse before he'd lost consciousness. But that could wait until he was feeling better. Mostly, she just wanted him to know that she was here for him and would continue to be here.

Thea had left a few hours before with a promise to be back as soon as she got a little bit of sleep. She had been a champ, a true friend. Besides the paramedics and the police, she was the first on the scene and had held Felicity up while Oliver was loaded into the ambulance for transport. She'd given her a ride to the hospital and held her hand outside the trauma room where the doctors and nurses worked feverishly to stabilize him.

When he'd coded and Felicity's legs had buckled, Thea had sat on the floor with her so they could hold onto one another. And when the doctor had come out and said that they'd finally stabilized him, they'd each cried tears of relief into each other's shoulder.

Felicity's mother had come by too, but Donna had been understandably shaken and unable to offer much in the way of support and comfort. Her husband had just been murdered, after all. Felicity wasn't sure if she'd ever tell her mother the truth of how that all went down. Perhaps it was better if she believed what they'd told the cops: that Jerry had been used as a larger part of a kidnapping plot against Felicity and Oliver. It wasn't entirely inaccurate, after all, and the man was dead. He'd paid the ultimate price for his faults. If Donna knew all of the horrible things Jerry had done in the months leading up to his death, what would that do to her?

She'd talk it over with Oliver, perhaps, but she felt letting Donna have her memories of her husband was probably the right way to go.

Felicity sat back in the hospital chair and stretched her back, her arms, her neck. What she wouldn't do for a cup of coffee. Pulling out her phone from her pocket, she saw it was nearing 9 o'clock in the morning. Yes, definitely well past time for some coffee. But on the upside, it meant she'd gotten four hours of sleep, which was more than she'd been expecting to get.

The door to Oliver's room opened and Felicity turned, expecting to see the shift nurse and instead seeing Moira Queen. She was holding a cardboard tray containing a couple coffees and what looked like a couple of pastries. She was also… smiling?

Why did that make her feel nervous?

"How's our patient doing?" Moira asked, crossing the room to her. She set the tray of coffees on Oliver's table and pulled up the other chair so she could sit next to Felicity.

"He hasn't woken up, I don't think. I was asleep until just a bit ago."

"He'll wake up soon and he'll be very happy to see you."

Okay, now Felicity was definitely feeling unnerved. Why was Moira being so nice to her?

"I was in here before, saw you sleeping. I stepped out to go get a coffee and brought you back one as well. I hope you like lattes?" She handed Felicity one of the cups, which she accepted gratefully.

"Oh, thank you," Felicity moaned after she'd taken a long drink. "I was afraid I was going to have to hit up the sludge at the nurse's station."

Moira made a face. "No way would I sit by and let family drink _that_." She took a dainty sip of her own drink while Felicity let the shock of what the other woman had said register.

"Family?"

"Of course, dear. You're one of us, now." Moira set down her coffee and handed Felicity one of the pastries, a chocolate croissant. She took a nibble, trying not to hum at how good it tasted.

"I always thought— well, I thought you didn't like me much. I never got the impression you thought I was important," Felicity admitted.

"I know, and that was my own fault. I made an assumption about you and I used you terribly. I let your father use you, and for that I will never stop apologizing."

Moira's grey-blue eyes were sincere as she reached forward and patted Felicity's hand. A ball of emotion threatened to lodge itself in Felicity's throat so she took another swallow of her coffee before replying. "I can't say I'm sorry for it… I never would have known Oliver if you hadn't done what you did."

The other woman smiled as her gaze moved over to her son's resting face. "On that we agree. I'm so glad my son has you in his life. He needs a strong woman at his side and you have more than proven yourself to be that woman."

"Thank you." Felicity didn't know what else to say. Moira smiled at her in return.

A soft sound from the bed alerted her and she turned to see Oliver's eyes starting to blink open. He shifted a bit, then winced. Felicity leaned over him, taking his hand.

"Oliver?"

"F'licity?"

"I'm right here." She watched, lower lip caught between her teeth, as he finally got his eyes open and was able to focus on her face. He smiled a bit.

"You're here…"

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she promised him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot in my shoulder." He winced as he shifted again.

"Would you like me to help you sit up?" When he nodded, she worked the controls on his bed, elevating him up and then tucked a few pillows behind him so he had the proper support.

"Mom, you're here too," he said once he spotted Moira.

"Of course I am. We were so worried about you. Thea was here too, she'll be back soon. I know she's dying to see you."

"I'm sorry to have worried you all."

"Nonsense. It's our privilege as your family. Isn't that right, Felicity?" Moira asked, smiling at her.

Her own smile came easier and quicker this time. "That's right."

Felicity continued to eat her chocolate croissant while Moira spoke to Oliver about the "clean up" from the day before and just took a moment to marvel at the turn her life had taken. Once, the Queens had been the enemy. Felicity had felt very much like she was on her own. Now, she was accepted as one of them. Oliver was in love with her and she was in love with him. She was the director of Applied Sciences with an entire lab (staffed with fantastic people she considered friends) at her disposal. She had a true friend and sister in Thea Queen.

Her future was looking pretty fantastic, actually.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: While Oliver recovers, he and Felicity have a much needed conversation and time together. And we reach our story's end...**

 **This is it, folks, the last chapter. I don't know what to think about all of you pretty much knowing what exactly happens this chapter. I didn't fool you much here, did I? Ah well. I guess I can't begrudge you your happy ending. ;) There was a bit of an easter egg from The Godfather (the original inspiration for this story) in the last chapter that none of you really found. It was Moira's scene with Carrie. In the movie, Michael Corleone sends his brother in law out of town... he has betrayed the family and everyone including the brother in law expects Michael to kill him. But he gives him a plane ticket and tells him to hit the road. He's his brother's husband, he wouldn't kill him. Of course, then the creep is garroted in the car on the way to the airport anyhow. The question here is: Did Moira give Maseo a signal to kill Carrie? Or did she let her go? Let's got with a choose your own adventure style thing here... whichever ending pleases you most, that's what happened. :) Anyhow...**

 **Thanks to everyone for supporting the story, especially mersayseh for beta reading this for me.**

Oliver didn't get to go home that day, much to his frustration. The doctor wanted to keep an eye on him for one more night and he would be released in the morning. He hadn't been happy to learn that, behaving like quite the bear to all the poor nurses who came to take his blood pressure and deliver meals to him. Felicity had chided him gently to be patient.

He'd settled down a bit once she assured him she was going to stay there with him. Frankly, she'd been surprised that he would doubt that she would.

After Thea and Moira left, Felicity settled down in the chair next to his bedside, ready to watch a movie on the hospital television with him and he reached for her hand, threading his fingers with hers.

"Thank you again for staying with me," he told her as the title credits began to roll on the action/comedy they'd picked out.

She tore her eyes from the screen and found him watching her with a soft expression. "Of course I'm here, Oliver. Where else would I be?"

"At home, where it's more comfortable."

"Where I'm comfortable right now is here with you and I didn't want you to be lonely here. Plus, if I left you here alone you'd just torment those poor nurses," she teased.

"I pushed you away for weeks," he said, squeezing her hand.

Felicity muted the movie so she could focus on him. They apparently were going to have this talk right now. Better late than never…

"Yes, you did. Will you tell me why?"

"Well, it started after… our night together. You said that you didn't want to ruin our friendship."

Felicity remembered that discussion with a pang. "I know. I didn't."

"I thought that meant you didn't have the same feelings for me that I did for you," he admitted.

"Wait, you had feelings for me _then_?" For some reason, when he'd told Helena that he loved Felicity, she'd thought it was a more recent development.

"Felicity, I've been falling in love with you since the day we met. It took me a while to realize it and by then, I was already halfway there. I wanted to tell you the night we made love but… I thought I had time."

The pang in her chest grew. "And then when I suggested we preserve our friendship…"

"I thought I needed to back off, to make you happy. I was afraid you'd feel compelled to return my feelings and my family had already forced you into enough. I'm sorry. I should have said something."

She leaned over, lifting their joined hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. I was so scared… no one had ever loved me before and the way I felt about you was just so _much._ I thought it was impossible. I was trying to protect my heart."

"I know that. Now," he added with a twinkle in his eye. Then, he sobered. "Not long after that, Carrie Cutter began to make threats against you."

Felicity blinked in surprise. "I remember you mentioning her… she was the red-head right?"

Oliver nodded. "She wanted to… get rid of you so that we could be together. I was unnerved. I thought that being married to me was putting your life in danger so I started to keep my distance… from Thea as well as I didn't know how much I could trust that Carrie wouldn't follow through on her threats to eliminate anyone who was important to me."

"Oliver, I wish you'd told me. You should have told me this was going on, I had a right to know."

"I didn't want to lose you."

"Maybe we're stronger together, did you ever consider that? We could have worked something out."

"I'm sorry I pushed you away." His blue eyes were filled with remorse. It might have been the last remnants of his last pain pill talking but she saw the truth of how he felt in his eyes.

She leaned over his bedside and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. She drew back, caressing her fingers over his brow. "You're not going to push me away any more, are you?"

"Never," he vowed.

"Good. Then its in the past. From here on out, we move forward. Together."

"Deal." He reached up with his other hand to cup the back of her head, drawing her back down to his lips for another kiss. When he released her, he smiled into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too." It felt damn good to say it. Damn good to hear it, too. Felicity felt like, after everything, her heart was full to bursting. About damn time.

"Felicity! We both know that I'm healed," Oliver protested. "You heard the doctor, I've got a clean bill of health."

"Mmm," Felicity hummed as she lead the way to his room, her pert blonde ponytail swaying teasingly at him. But she wasn't bringing him here for what he was hoping for, as it was turning out, but so that he would take a _nap_. A nap! Him! "I did hear that but I still think you need to take it easy."

"Felicity…" Was that his voice, making that whining sound? Well, who could blame him? It'd been weeks since their one and only night together and this whole last week had been _torture_. He'd been released from the hospital the day after waking up but with strict orders to take it easy for the next week.

For one whole week, he'd counted the days and then the _hours_ until this appointment. His plan was to get cleared by the doctor and then bring Felicity back home and get naked. Considering all he'd had in mind, they wouldn't be leaving his room, _their_ room for three whole days.

And now… she was telling him he needed a _nap_?!

"I won't have you taxing yourself, Oliver, potentially disrupting your stitches," she told him primly as she pulled down the blankets on the bed and fluffed his pillow.

"I'll show you taxing," he grumbled as he watched her bend over the bed, admiring the curve of her ass in that skirt she was wearing.

Felicity glanced over her shoulder (was that a _wink_?) and made a tsking noise. "None of that until you've rested, Oliver."

"Felicity, I've been resting all week. I've been _wanting you_ all week. Have mercy… I almost _died_."

She straightened up and turned to face him, narrowing her eyes. "You can't play that card."

"I can if it'll get you naked and in my bed."

" _Our_ bed," she corrected.

"Yes, _our_ bed."

For the last week, they'd shared this bed and this room. No sex, sadly enough, but it turned out that sleeping with Felicity in his arms and waking to her there in the morning was his second favorite thing to do with her in this bed. The last several days, however, had been growing increasingly hard. Pun most definitely intended. She felt so good with her curves and smooth skin and then there was the smell of her, filling his nostrils and turning him on before he'd even properly woken up.

"Don't tell me this hasn't been hard on you too," Oliver said, thinking back to all the flirty looks and lingering touches she'd given him during the last week.

"We're not talking about me though," she reminded him. "We're talking about you taking a nap."

Oliver groaned and got ready to argue further with her. His argument died on his tongue when she stepped forward and began to unbutton his shirt. She started at the top button and methodically worked her way down the shirt, pulling the tails free of his waistband and letting her fingers linger on his bared skin. He sucked in a breath.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Getting you ready for your nap," she told him. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes and the suggestion was clear in her voice.

Oliver swallowed. "Okay," he said shakily. Was she seducing him? Was this whole _nap_ thing just a tease? Because if so… that was fucking _hot_.

Felicity pushed the open shirt off his shoulders and then knelt before him, unlacing his sneakers and pulling them off as he lifted his feet to comply. He tried not to think too hard about the images that sprang to his mind as he watched her kneeling there. "I can probably take care of that myself," he pointed out to her softly.

"Nonsense," she replied. "You'll over-exert yourself and I need you at full strength, Mr. Queen."

Oh, shit. His jeans grew tight as his blood rushed south. Her calling him that did major things to him. She knew it too, from their heavy makeout sessions this last week. That minx.

But Oliver was turned on by the idea of Felicity taking charge of this… encounter. It's not how he normally had sex, he'd always preferred to be in control and to keep a distance by dominating his partner. But giving up some of that control to Felicity felt right, somehow. It felt _sexy_. He wanted to explore it.

She worked on his jeans next, getting back to her feet (after kicking off her sandals) and drawing down the zipper before popping the button. She hooked her thumbs in the belt loops before yanking suddenly, causing the jeans to fall down his thighs before gravity took over. Oliver kicked the jeans away, keeping his eyes trained on her face, enjoying the concentration marring her features.

When he wore only his boxers, she began to nudge him back towards the bed. At the edge of the mattress, she stopped him and then took hold of the waistband of his underwear. Slowly, she drew them down, pulling the waistband out as she freed his already achingly hard erection. Again, Felicity moved down as she removed the underwear until she was kneeling on the carpet. He stepped out of the boxers and she tossed them aside. His heart was pounding as he watched her. He was completely naked and she was still completely clothed and that should have bothered the hell out of him but instead he found it unbelievably erotic.

Oliver expected her to get back to her feet, like before, but instead she drew her hands back up his legs, smoothing up the backs of his thighs until her palms covered both cheeks of his ass. He wanted to moan out loud at how good that felt, how much he wanted her hands all over his body. But then, her mouth enveloped the swollen head of his cock, sucking lightly and running her tongue along the slit.

"Fuck, Felicity!" he gasped. He held his hands out, not sure where to put them. He wasn't sure what she'd want him doing.

She pulled her mouth away from him, drawing a most undignified whimper from his lips. "Don't hold back, Oliver. This is for you." She removed one of her hands from his ass and reached for his hand, bringing it to her head.

This time he did groan as he wrapped his fingers around the back of her head, careful not to disturb her ponytail. With the other hand, he drew his fingers along her cheek and down her jaw as she took him back into her mouth, this time letting his cock slide even further into her mouth. Jesus, her _mouth_. Hot, wet… her tongue stroked him and then her cheeks hollowed as she sucked. Her hand left his and came down to cradle his balls, rubbing the soft skin there as she drew him further and further into her mouth.

His hips rocked and he tried to still the motion but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Felicity must have been able to tell he was still holding back because again she released him and this time he hissed at the sensation when cool hair hit his moistened dick. His other hand found her head, fingers threading into her ponytail.

"Don't hold back," she said huskily. "You can thrust."

 _Fuck_. She swallowed him, taking even more than before until he could feel her tongue stroking near the base of his cock and her lips tightening… the head of his dick bumped the back of her throat and he swore loudly. She pulled back, sucking as she went and Oliver let go of some of his control. He began to thrust gently into her mouth and he felt her relax into it, as though she'd been waiting for him. Emboldened by her acceptance and inflamed by the feeling of her hot mouth sucking so hard on his cock, he thrust a little harder. Then a little faster.

Felicity went with it, swallowing him down like a champ and then letting him fuck her mouth until he was crying out at how good it felt. She hummed and the vibrations shot right through him, right at the base of his spine and he didn't even have a chance to give her a warning before his orgasm crashed over him. Still thrusting, he emptied himself into her mouth, down her throat. She swallowed around him, her tongue lapping, taking everything he gave her.

"Fuck, I love you," he gasped as she finally released him and he sank down onto the bed. Felicity grinned as she sat back on her heels before pushing to her feet.

"I love you too, Oliver."

He watched her, his eyes glued to her movements as she slowly removed her blouse and skirt. She wiggled her hips, giving him a show and Oliver could feel himself already stirring. She was so sexy… he couldn't believe that he'd ever thought she was anything but completely drop dead gorgeous. In fact, he was starting to question his younger self and his former preference for rail-thin model types. Felicity's subtle curves were a thousand times more enticing to him now than some brunette's exposed ribcage.

"You're stunning," he told her quietly.

She smiled coyly as she stepped between his knees and pressed a finger to the center of his chest. He reached for her hips but she shook her head. "Uh uh, this is still about you, Oliver," she told him.

"But—" He wanted to touch her, please her, do _everything_ with her…

"You need to rest, Oliver. I won't have you straining yourself," she reminded him, her eyes twinkling. It was his turn to smirk. Alright, he could go along with this. For now, at least.

He scooted back on the bed and reclined against the pillows, waiting for her. Felicity reached over to the night table where she drew a condom out of the drawer before climbing onto the bed, straddling his legs.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Where'd that come from?"

"I might have planned this," she told him in a conspiratorial whisper as she tossed the condom onto the bed next to him. He grinned at her. He loved the idea that she'd thought this whole encounter through.

She moved slowly up his body, kissing as she moved over him. This time, she avoided his dick, which was already starting to harden again as she lingered kisses along his thighs, her fingers gently stroking in time with her lips.

When she got to his hip, she paused and spent a good deal of time and attention there, her tongue flicking into the shallow area next to his hipbone. Oliver hadn't even known that was a hot spot for him but the more she focused on it, the more turned on he got. His blood thundered in his veins, heading quickly south and his dick twitched against his abdomen as it lengthened and hardened.

He started to moan and when Felicity rewarded his moans with a sharp nip to his hipbone, he moaned even louder. His hips began to move then and she reached underneath him to grab and squeeze his ass before finally moving up over his abs. She ran her lithe tongue through the contours of his muscles, humming as she went as though he tasted like her very own gourmet ice cream cone. His eyes were fixed on hers as she kissed and tongued her way up to his torso. The intent look in her eyes was so fucking sexy…

She settled by one of his nipples and he was about to tell her that nipple play had never done anything for him when she flicked the tip of her tongue at it. Oliver gasped, automatically arching towards her mouth. She ran her tongue all around before settling her mouth over the tight bud. He groaned and reached for her.

As soon as his hands touched her shoulders, she lifted off of him and fixed him with a hot look. "No touching… you'll tire yourself out," she reminded him.

He wanted to protest, to grab ahold of her, pull her beneath him and fuck her into next Wednesday. But he also didn't want her to stop what she was doing. So he grabbed at the comforter to have something to hold onto and nodded his assent.

Felicity continued moving up, nipping at his collarbone before settling on his neck. Again, an area he hadn't given much thought to but as her teeth dug into the corded muscles there, he cried out and arched again. He felt her chuckle against his skin as she settled over him. Her dripping core rubbed against his throbbing cock and he groaned at the hot, slippery, sensation.

"Felicity," he pleaded, trying to buck his hips against hers, to achieve some much needed friction. She sat back a little on his thighs and reached for the condom. Within moments, she had it unrolled onto his length and she moved back over him.

Felicity's mouth moved over his neck, across his jaw and to his lips. She hovered there, her lips just brushing his, her breath coasting over him. He felt her reach down between them and wrap her small, delicate fingers around his rock-hard erection. Oliver groaned at the feeling of her holding him so tightly, her thumb brushing over the weeping head of his dick and spreading the slickness. Then, she rubbed his length against his soaking slit, coating him with her juices.

He gasped and groaned, needing more, needing to feel her surrounding him, pulling him deep inside of her. He never wanted to leave ever again. "Please…" he moaned, her lips still just lightly brushing his. She dipped her head down, covering his lips fully at the same time she positioned herself and started to sink down onto him. She sunk her tongue into his mouth at the same time and Oliver felt like he was going to burst into flame. With a growl into her mouth, he released the blankets he'd been clutching and grabbed her hips, jerking her down onto his hardness until he was buried in her completely.

Tearing his lips away, he groaned loudly at how perfect it felt. Her walls squeezed tightly around him, holding him, pulsing. Oliver moaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he tried to pull himself back under control. He looked up at her to find her biting her lip and smiling down at him.

"Couldn't resist, could you?" she asked.

"Not one bit," he admitted. "You'll have to punish me later."

"I will," she promised. Then Felicity circled her hips and his mind went blissfully blank except for the sensations she was creating within him.

Oliver shifted his legs, bringing them up next her hips so he could plant his feet on the mattress. Felicity didn't notice, focused as she was on moving so slowly over him. So he took a little bit of pleasure in the startled gasp she made when he suddenly thrust up hard into her. She planted her hands on his chest to keep from falling over and he gripped her hips even tighter as he kept on thrusting, harder and faster.

The wet, obscene sounds of their coupling echoed through the room as their bodies slapped together. Her moans echoed his as she straightened up, arching her back and thrusting her breasts out as she rode him. The tip of her ponytail brushed the tops of his knees, tickling him in the most delightful way.

"C'mon, baby," he urged her on. "Just like that." Fuck, she felt so damn _good_.

She moved one hand down to where they were joined and he could feel her fingertips exploring, stroking him as he pounded in and out of her body. He cursed loudly. Then, her fingers went right to her hard clit. She rubbed in time with his thrusts and her cries grew louder and sharper. She was close and he needed to get her there before he beat her to the finish line.

He released one of her hips and reached down, his finger tangling with hers as he worked with her to push her over the edge.

"Yes! Right there! Oh, god! Oliver!" Her shouts were throaty and hoarse and so fucking sexy.

He flicked, rubbed and pressed. Then, with her back bowed, she released with a shout and he felt a new gush of arousal coating his still throbbing length inside of her as she contracted all around him. Her cries echoed in his ears as she clenched around him and the sight of her body flushed all over, moving over his, was like something out of his most vivid fantasies.

That combined with the way her walls were still fluttering and grabbing at his plunging cock were enough to set him over edge with his own cry.

His entire body was buzzing as he came down off of what had to be one of the most powerful orgasms of his life. Felicity fell forward onto him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him. He could feel her heart thundering against his chest and he pressed several tired kisses to the side of her head.

"I think I'm ready for that nap now," he murmured.

Felicity chuckled as she rolled off of him, his softening cock slipping out of her. She leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Let me take care of you and then you can do just that."

"Join me?" he asked sleepily.

"Of course."

She went to the bathroom and retrieved a warm, wet washcloth to clean them both up with, taking her time stroking over his sweat-dampened flesh. Then, he watched her with sleepy eyes as she got up to dispose of the condom and enjoyed the sway of her hips as she returned to the bed and curled into his side, pulling a blanket up over both of them. Oliver never would have thought he would have enjoyed someone taking care of him like that, but with her… it felt good. He felt loved. He hugged her to his side, enjoying how well she fit there. Rest now, talk more later.

Oliver and Felicity did eventually get to talk. In fact, they had a whole week to do nothing but talk (and make love) when they went on their very well deserved and very much delayed honeymoon. Felicity wanted the tropics, Oliver wanted the mountains. They compromised on Hawaii and switched off days where they laid on the beach versus hiked in the mountains.

Okay, so maybe the honeymoon was an equal balance of sex, hiking, beach lounging and talking. Either way, it was a week of bliss for both of them.

They talked about how they each first came to realize their feelings for each other. They talked about how foolish they each had been to try to deny those feelings. They also talked about how none of that mattered anymore because they were together and happy and ready to be a united team back in Starling.

With Felicity's help and guidance, Oliver grew in his confidence as the CEO of Queen Consolidated. With their new Applied Sciences division paving the way, QC quickly became a world leader in innovation. With that influence, Oliver was finally able to steer the family business away from booze, women and gambling and focus on the more legitimate ventures that would secure all of their futures.

Tommy and Oliver were thick as thieves, just as they'd been before the mob war with the Bertinellis but perhaps with less public intoxication this time. Tommy's relationship with Laurel was officially over and Oliver was there for his oldest friend, offering him his support and companionship as he got over the failed relationship. Felicity thought it was a crime that a man as sweet and handsome and charming as Tommy Merlyn didn't have someone in his life and started to devise plans to fix him up with her friends from Applied Sciences.

Moira stepped back from administrative duties at QC, letting Oliver fully take the reigns and focused her time and attention on the charitable efforts she was starting to find genuinely fulfilling. It turned out that trying to save the city was more satisfying for her than being a party to the decline of it. She also began to date a lovely man she'd met, Walter Steele. He was the CFO for the First Starling National Bank and a truly wonderful man. For the first time in a long time, she was happy.

Felicity moved her mother into the Queen mansion. Donna was devastated after Jerry's death and everyone agreed that it was best not to clue her in on the real circumstances surrounding his demise. For the first few months, she spent a lot of time in her room. Eventually, she began to join the rest of them on family dinner nights and even began to go out with friends. Thea hired her on at Verdant where she was a huge hit with the regulars. They called her "Cougar Mama" which Donna seemed to really enjoy. Felicity was able to grow her relationship with her mother in the meantime which meant the world to both of them.

Thea kept her focus on Verdant and made quite a name for herself in doing that. She was interviewed for several television shows and national magazines on the success of her club and there were talks of franchising to other major cities in the country. She was building a brand and was immensely proud of herself. But no one was prouder than Oliver. He never wasted an opportunity to brag on his baby sister, a trait that Felicity found absolutely darling.

While all of that was going on, Thea began dating Roy Harper. They were a very cute couple and while Oliver rolled his eyes and often sent Roy threatening looks, the four of them regularly went out on double dates together. Oliver insisted it was so he could keep his on the younger man. Felicity, however, enjoyed those happy moments with her husband and sister-in-law, bonding and enjoying each other just like any normal family.

As for Oliver and Felicity, they had their moments. They were both stubborn people and not afraid to show it. Butting heads over issues that came up was common. So common, in fact, that Moira, Thea, Diggle and Roy all had a secret look they would share when Oliver and Felicity would get to bickering to signal that it was time to leave the room. Because after the bickering started, then came the heated looks. After that, it was best to leave the passionate couple alone. Most of them had learned that particular lesson the hard way.

Oliver and Felicity fit together like puzzle pieces and completed each other in a way no one else ever could. Their start might have been a bumpy one, but their foundation was strong and they and everyone around them were sure they could withstand the test of time. Together.

 **Again, thank you all for joining me on this ride. I had fun sharing it with you. I'm still trying to figure out what my next project will be. As always, I have about five or more different things started/outlined but nothing is clamoring for all my attention at the moment so I need to settle down and focus and get writing. Right now, I'm most tempted to do a season 4 speculative fic of sorts. What do you all think?**


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